


Into the Spider-Chat

by AnimationNut



Series: Into the Spider-Chat [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Blood, Chapter 17 contains racist remarks, Chapter 24 contains racial profiling, Chapter 7 features mentions of blood but nothing graphic, Don't copy to another site, Found Family, Gen, Group chat, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Racism, Spider-Family, Spider-Gang, Team as Family, chat room, spider-fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 57,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimationNut/pseuds/AnimationNut
Summary: Gwen is able to communicate with her fellow Spider-People through mini-portals, but it's not the safest method. Peni invents a laptop that can reach to all six of their dimensions at once, allowing them to chat via a private chat room. It goes about as well as expected.





	1. Established Contact

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Into the Spider-verse.

**Peni:** Hi everyone! Or maybe just hi me, if the communications are unable to cross dimensions. Or if Gwen wasn’t able to deliver all of the laptops.

 **Gwen:** Excuse me.

 **Gwen:** Where’s the faith? I did manage to figure out how to open mini-portals before you did.

 **Peni:** Gwen! Yay! It works!

 **Gwen:** Did you really doubt yourself?

 **Peni:** Not really. But there’s a chance for errors. Creating a laptop that can connect to six dimensions at once is tricky business.

 **Gwen:** Hey, you nailed it on the first try. Do you know how many dimensions I was forced to peek into before I found the right ones?

 **Peter B:** Don’t you kids have school?

 **Peni:** Sure! I built the first prototype during study hall.

 **Gwen:** Eh. School can’t teach me how to program a generator to create a small portal that leads to very specific dimensions.

 **Peter B:** I’d like to point out that we went through a heck of a lot of trouble to stop Kingpin’s collider from destroying the space-time continuum.

 **Gwen:** That’s exactly why I don’t do it often and only keep it open for a short amount of time.

 **Miles:** I was mostly focussed on keeping Brooklyn from disappearing down a black hole. And making sure you guys got home safely.

 **Peter B:** That should not have been an afterthought.

 **Miles:** It wasn’t an afterthought. It just came after my first thought.

 **Porker:** Looks like the gang’s almost back together. We’re just missing a monochromic presence.

 **Peni:** Noir! Didn’t Gwen tell you what time we’d be meeting?

 **Porker:** Maybe there’s a time difference.

 **Miles:** I don’t think it works like that.

 **Gwen:** The guy is living in 1933. You really don’t expect him to master the laptop this quickly, do you?

 **Peni:** I gave him a tutorial.

 **Gwen:** Did he understand anything you were telling him?

 **Peni:** He was listening very intently. He didn’t say a word until I was finished.

 **Gwen:** I left him with you for two hours. He didn’t say anything?

 **Miles:** That’s not exactly unusual for Noir.

 **Gwen:** Peni, I’m sure you did a fine job, but it was also your first time teaching an old person how to use a computer. Trust me, sometimes it takes a while.

 **Peter B:** That’s offensive.

 **Gwen:** What?

 **Porker:** He doesn’t appreciate being called old. He tries to forget about it.

 **Peter B:** Shut up.

 **Gwen:** I didn’t technically call you old.

 **Peter B:** I’m pretty sure Noir is around the same age as me. So you’re calling me old by association.

 **Noir:** I AM NOT OLD

 **Peni:** He’s here!

 **Miles:** Hey man! Glad you could make it.

 **Gwen:** Hey, Noir!

 **Porker:** The Old Man Club is complete!

 **Peter B:** We are not old!

 **Peter** **B:** Tell them, Noir.

 **Noir** : WE RE STILL A COUPLA SPRY JOES

 **Miles** : Oh no.

 **Miles** : His caps lock. He’s engaged the caps lock.

 **Gwen** : There’s no hope.

 **Peni:** Yes there is! There’s always hope!

 **Noir:** WHATS A CAPS LOCK

 **Noir:** IS THAT SLANG FOR SOME KIND OF HAT

 **Miles:** Someone send help. Go to him, Peni!

 **Peter B:** Ya’ll are being overdramatic.

 **Gwen:** We’re really not.

 **Porker:** The caps lock is a button, Noir. Do you see the light blinking on your keyboard?

 **Noir:** THERE ARE SEVERAL LIGHTS BLINKING AT ME

 **Porker:** You want the one on the very left side of the keyboard. You know, on the key that says caps lock?

 **Noir:** OH

 **Noir:** whats it do

 **Noir:** oh makes the letters smaller

 **Peter B:** You know what I change my mind. There’s every reason to be overdramatic. This is kind of painful.

 **Peni:** It’s not his fault!

 **Gwen:** She’s right. We’ll just have to be patient.

 **Noir:** patient with what

 **Porker:** So who’s going to teach him about the punctuation keys?

 **Miles:** I’d love to, but I actually have an essay to write. Catch you guys later!

**_Miles has logged off_ **

**Gwen:** I gotta go too. Fantastic job, Peni. These laptops are amazing. Now we can talk whenever we want.

 **Peter B:** What do you have to do?

 **Gwen:** Nunya.

 **Peter B:** Nunya?

 **Gwen:** Yeah. Nunya business.

**_Gwen has logged off_ **

**Peter B:** Teenagers. Just the worst.

 **Porker:** That was pathetic. I can’t believe you fell for that.

 **Noir:** i dont get it

 **Peter B:** Don’t worry about it. It was a joke that wasn’t funny.

 **Peni:** I’ll write up a manual for you, Noir. It’ll tell you everything you need to know about your new laptop.

 **Noir:** that would be nice

 **Peter B:** When you’re finished with it Peni, how about I revise it for you?

 **Peni:** That would be great! You could add anything I might’ve missed.

 **Porker:** And he can translate it into Old Person so Noir can understand it better.

 **Peter B:** I’m starting to think this multidimensional chat room isn’t the best idea.


	2. Hello, My Nickname Is

**Spider-Dad:** Hey, guys.

 **Spider-Dad:** Wait a minute.

 **Spider-Dad:** All right, who’s the wise guy that messed with my nickname?

 **Babe:** Wasn’t me, though I wish it was.

 **Babe:** Oh ha ha, very funny. If you thought this would be an insult, you are sorely mistaken. Babe is a fantastic movie.

 **Drumstick:** Hey, Peter. Hey Ham.

 **Drumstick:** Seriously? Drumstick?

 **Spider-Dad:** How’d you know it was us?

 **Drumstick:** It wasn’t hard.

 **Spider-Dad:** I’m not a paternal figure.

 **Babe:** You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to us.

 **Drumstick:** This is definitely Miles’ doing.

 **Babe:** Or Peni.

 **MechManiac:** Wasn’t me.

 **MechManiac:** Ooh, I like mine!

 **MechManiac:** And what’s the movie Babe about? I’ve never seen it.

 **Gloomy** **Pants:** I’m guessing it’s about a pig.

 **Babe:** Brilliant deduction, Mr. Detective. We’re gonna need to do a movie night. Peni and Noir need to be exposed to the best films ever created.

 **Spider-Dad:** I would think if Babe was truly one of the best films ever created, it would still exist in the year 3145.

 **Babe:** Some people just have poor taste. Unfortunately, those are the people who decide which movies get the legendary status.

 **Spider-Dad:** I partially agree.

 **Spider-Dad:** Miles! We can see the green dot next to your name. We know you’re watching. Fix these nicknames. How’d you change them anyway?

 **Miles:** I was checking out the settings and realized anyone can change anyone’s nickname. I thought it was the best feature.

 **Gloomy Pants:** A dangerous feature is more like it.

 **Drumstick:** Peni, why would you leave that option open? And also, massive props to Noir for picking up the chat thing so quickly. Punctuation and everything.

 **Gloomy Pants:** It’s almost like using a typewriter, except it’s an improvement. There’s a backspace key.

 **MechManiac:** I made six laptops that can reach across dimensions. I’m sorry for forgetting to privatise one setting.

 **Gloomy Pants:** I don’t think it was meant to be a criticism, doll.

 **Drumstick:** Yeah, it was really just a curious question. These really are stellar, Peni.

 **MechManiac:** Thanks! Sorry, mistakes and I don’t go well together.

 **Spider-Dad:** I wouldn’t call it a mistake.

 **Spider-Dork:** I definitely had fun with it.

 **Spider-Dork:** Dang it.

 **Spider-Dork:** Why am I the Spider-Dork?

 **Gloomy Pants:** Answer’s obvious, kid.

 **Spider-Dork:** Thanks, Peter.

 **McChubby:** You’re welcome.

 **McChubby:** HAM

 **Babe:** What? I didn’t do anything.

 **Drumstick:** You don’t like it?

 **McChubby:** GWEN

 **Babe:** I’m offended you thought it was me. I’d be far more creative.

 **Gwanda:** Hey, what’s wrong with mine?

 **Gwanda:** PETER

 **Smol Bean:** This is going well.

 **Smol Bean:** Yay! This one is even better!

 **Gwanda:** Why does Peni get the nice one?

 **Netflix and Swill:** Because I like her best.

 **Netflix and Swill:** What is this garbage?

 **Spider-Dork:** I thought of a better one.

 **Gloomy Pants:** We’re speeding downhill real fast, fellas.

 **Klutzy McLoser:** Listen it was bound to happen sooner or later.

 **Klutzy McLoser:** Ugh, Ham!

 **Netflix and Swill:** Don’t yell at me, you’re the one who broke the goober.

 **Klutzy McLoser:** I thought we moved past that!

 **Gwanda:** Kinda.

 **Tall, Dark and Mysterious:** For the most part.

 **Tall, Dark and Mysterious:** I like this one.

 **Smol Bean:** Me too! I thought it was a better fit.

 **McChubby:** I’ve got a better one.

 **Emotional Baggage:** Don’t even think about it.

 **Emotional Baggage:** You bunk lizard.

 **Gwennifer:** To be fair, we all have emotional baggage.

 **Gwennifer:** This is the worst.

 **Netflix and Swill** : You look like a Gwennifer.

 **Gwennifer:** You know what you look like?

 **Bacon Bits:** I can only guess.

 **Bacon Bits:** This is insulting and offensive.

 **Gwennifer:** I didn’t do it.

 **Smol Bean:** I thought of it beforehand. Did I steal your thunder?

 **Gwennifer:** No, it’s perfect.

 **Cavity Girl:** Thanks!

 **Cavity Girl:** Hey!

 **Bacon Bits:** With all the candy you eat you’re gonna get a mouthful of cavities.

 **Oldie:** I’m still trying to figure out what a bunk lizard is.

 **Oldie:** I hate all of you.

 **Gwennifer:** Look what you did Miles.

 **‘Hey’ Guy:** I have no regrets.

 **‘Hey’ Guy:** That’s completely uncool Gwen.

 **Gwennifer:** Just like you.

 **Oldie2:** I think it’s time we all settled.

 **Oldie2:** Why am I Oldie2 and not Oldie?

 **Oldie:** Seriously, Noir? That’s what offends you?

 **‘Hey’ Guy:** He’s come to terms with the fact that he’s old. Now it’s your turn.

 **Oldie:** I’m real tired of these old jokes. Here’s something you need to accept.

 **LyricLess:** What?

 **LyricLess:** Hey!

 **Oldie:** You suck at remembering lyrics to songs.

 **LyricLess:** At least I can remember some of them!

 **300 Pounder:** Barely.

 **300 Pounder:** HAM

 **Bacon Bits:** Okay that one was me.

 **Gwenivieve:** Good one.

 **Gwenivieve:** HAM

 **Bacon Bits:** That was not me.

 **Cavity Girl:** Gwenivieve is much better.

 **Gwenivieve:** It’s terrible!

 **Bug Eyes:** I disagree.

 **Bug Eyes:** Gwen!

 **Worst in Show:** Bad taste, Gwen. Bad taste.

 **Worst in Show:** HEY

 **300 Pounder:** Much better.

 **Worst in Show:** That’s it. That’s crossing the line. How dare you insinuate I would not win Best in Show at the county fair?

**_Worst in Show has reported 300 Pounder to the Admin_ **

**300 Pounder:** Wait, who’s the Admin?

 **Bug Eyes:** Me!

**_Admin has removed 300 Pounder and Gwenivieve from the Group Chat_ **

**LyricLess:** Okay. Maybe I should have left well enough alone.

 **Oldie2:** You think?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you kept up with the name changes. I think I made it obvious enough as to who was who.
> 
> In case you didn't, here's a guide.
> 
> Peter B: Spider-Dad, McChubby, Oldie, 300 Pounder  
> Noir: Gloomy Pants, Tall, Dark and Mysterious, Emotional Baggage, Oldie2  
> Ham: Babe, Netflix and Swill, Bacon Bits, Worst in Show  
> Gwen: Drumstick, Gwanda, Gwennifer, Gwenivieve  
> Miles: Spider-Dork, Klutzy McLoser, 'Hey' Guy, LyricLess  
> Peni: MechManiac, Smol Bean, Cavity Girl, Bug Eyes


	3. I'm Here For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly different type of chapter this time. Might do a couple more like this, depending on the ideas I have.

**Peter B:** Has anyone talked to Miles lately?

 **Gwen:** I opened up a portal to his dorm room, but only his roommate Ganke was there. I’m worried. It was his uncle’s funeral a few days ago. Ganke says he’s barely seen Miles outside of class.

 **Peni:** Poor Miles! He must be feeling so awful. Can we go see him?

 **Peter B:** I’ll go. He might not be up to seeing all of us right now. I’ll check up on him, make sure he’s not running himself into the ground.

 **Noir:** The kid’s gone through a lot of trauma in a short amount of time. Just like we did.

 **Gwen:** Except unlike us, he has other Spider-People to lean on. We’ll help him through it.

 **Porker:** Absolutely.

 **Gwen:** Are you ready, Peter? I can bring you to Miles’ dimension right now.

 **Peter B:** Give me three minutes. I have to tell MJ where I’m heading.

 **Gwen:** All right, I’ll power the generator up.

**_Peter B has logged off_ **

**Porker:** Why are you the one who gets to keep the mini-collider?

 **Gwen:** A) It’s not really a collider, it’s a bit different, hence why I call it a generator, and B) Because I’m the one who made it. Make your own.

**_Gwen has logged off_ **

**Porker:** Rude.

…

Travelling between dimensions wasn’t a pleasant experience. The colours blurred before Peter’s eyes, making his head pound and his stomach lurch. He managed to land with a little more grace the second time around, stumbling on his feet but keeping upright.

Gwen had programmed her multidimensional generator to drop him off just outside of a subway station. Down the dark tunnels was the place where Miles had been bit by his radioactive spider, and also the last place he had spent quality time with his uncle. That much Miles had been willing to divulge to them. Anything else about his uncle was pretty much off-limits, unless he breached the topic himself.

Peter descended the steps, the hood of his brown jacket obscuring his features. He hadn’t been all that concerned exposing his face when the dimensions were out of whack, but now that everything was fixed, he figured he’d take precautions. Miles’ New Yorkers didn’t need to think their Peter Parker was back from the dead.

The waiting platform was basically empty due to the late hour. Peter did a sweeping glance down both ends of the dark tunnels. His heightened senses didn’t depict the subway anywhere near him at the moment, so he jumped down to the tracks.

“Oi, that’s dangerous!” a homeless man lying on one of the benches shouted to him.

“So is my day job,” answered Peter.

He headed down the tunnel and towards the fence that blocked off Alchemax’s private property. He webbed himself over the top and dropped down on the other side. It took a while longer to reach the area popular for tagging. But as he and Gwen expected, there was Miles sitting across from the bright tunnel wall. His head was pressed against his knees and his shoulders were hunched in despair.

The back of Peter’s neck gave a pleasant hum, as it usually did in the presence of his fellow Spider-People. Miles’ head jerked up in surprise as he experienced the same sensation. “Peter?”

The disbelief in his voice was heavily outweighed by grief. Peter’s heart clenched for the kid, because he knew exactly what Miles was feeling right now. In a few long strides he was in front of the thirteen-year-old. He crouched down and gently peeled off the Spider-Man mask. Wet brown eyes peered at him.

“What are you doing here?” Miles asked softly, hastily wiping at his eyes.

“You’ve been radio silent, bud.”

“I can’t have a few days to myself?” asked Miles with a soft scowl.

“You can. But considering your uncle’s funeral was a couple of days ago, I’m sure you’ll understand why we were worried.”

Miles frowned, regarding Peter sharply. “How’d you know?”

“Ganke told Gwen when she tried to make contact with a portal.”

“He shouldn’t have,” muttered Miles. He climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt off his costume. He cast one more glance at the ‘Expectations’ artwork he had made under Aaron’s watchful eyes. Immense sadness and guilt surged in his gut but he managed to keep his expression neutral. “I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not. Because I wasn’t fine when Uncle Ben was murdered because of my stupid mistake.” Peter gripped Miles’ shoulders and said seriously, “I didn’t have anyone to comfort me during my time of need, no one I could talk to. But you don’t have to go through this alone. I will be the person you can turn to. Even if I have to hunt you down myself.”

Peter had crossed dimensions in order to see him, to help him, and Miles felt the lump in his throat grow. The funeral had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to go through. An investigation had brought to light that Kingpin murdered Aaron, simply because he had refused to kill Spider-Man. But his father didn’t know that the only reason Aaron hadn’t killed Spider-Man was because Spider-Man happened to be his nephew. He had saved Miles’ life and sacrificed his own. And Miles couldn’t tell his father that. Couldn’t tell him the burdens that choked him, the regret that haunted him.

With a shaky sob he leaned forwards and rested his head on Peter’s chest. Peter’s arms immediately went around him, a secure warmth that made the tears start fresh. “When does the crying stop?”

“It doesn’t,” said Peter gently, moving a hand to rest on top of the boy’s head. “But it doesn’t happen as often. It takes time.”

“I couldn’t save him, and I couldn’t save my world’s Peter Parker. Two lives lost in my first week of having powers.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Miles, you need to believe that.”

“I know,” Miles whispered. “Uncle Aaron told me it wasn’t my fault. But I couldn’t do anything for him.”

“I couldn’t do anything for my uncle, either. It’s hard, buddy. It’s a rough job, being Spider-Man. It’s like Ham said. You can’t save everybody and that never gets easier, especially when you lose people close to you.” Peter eased back so he could properly look at Miles. “The guilt will fade. But you have to stop blaming yourself. You said you lost two lives in your first week of having your powers. You know what else you did?”

“What?” asked Miles warily, reaching up to wipe the warm tears from his cheeks.

“You saved millions of people. You saved your parents. You saved _me_. You took down the most powerful crime boss in this city on your first try.”

Cracking a small smile, Miles joked, “I’ll have to remember to put that on my résumé one day.”

“Smart remarks, good! That means we’re making progress.” Peter ruffled Miles’ hair playfully. “I won’t tell you how to grieve. That’s a process only you can go through. But don’t isolate yourself. Talk to me. Talk to us. We’re here for you, Miles.”

“Thank you.”

Taking a deep breath, Miles glanced once more at the artwork. Though the sadness knotted in his chest so did fond affection. His uncle had been an inspiration to him, but it seemed like in some way, he had been an inspiration to Aaron as well.

_You’re the best of all of us, Miles. You’re on your way. Just keep going._

He would. Even when he didn’t feel like getting up, he’d think of his uncle, his parents, and everyone he loved.

Peter’s eyes followed Miles’ gaze. He studied the colours that exploded from the wall, vibrant and full of meaning. “It’s way better in person,” he said lightly. “A picture doesn’t do it justice.”

Miles turned to smile at him. “Maybe one day you can come with me. I can show you the ropes.”

“I’d prefer not to humiliate myself.”

“I’d enjoy it. And you might surprise yourself.”

“We’ll see.”

They started out of the tunnel together, Miles jerking his mask back over his features. “I feel a little better now,” he said honestly. “Thanks, man.”

Peter looped his arm over the boy’s shoulders. “Like I said, anytime.” His expression softened as he said, “I love you, bud.”

“I love you too,” returned Miles.  

Peter hadn’t expected Miles to return the sentiment, and delight swelled within him. Trying to keep from grinning like an idiot, Peter said, “Now how about we grab some burgers and then I’ll take you home.”

Miles’ eyes narrowed. “Did you really come for me or did you just come for the burgers?”

“The burgers, obviously.”

“Yeah right. That dumb look on your face says otherwise.”

“Shut up.”

…

 **Miles:** Hey guys!

 **Peni:** Miles!

 **Gwen:** Hey, Miles!

 **Porker:** Good to hear from you at last, kid!

 **Miles:** It’s only been a few days.

 **Porker:** Two days in your universe means two years in mine.

 **Miles:** It does not.

 **Porker:** Well sometimes it feels that way.

 **Noir:** How are you holding up, kiddo?

 **Miles:** Okay. Better. Sorry if I worried you. It’s been hard lately. But talking with Peter really helped me out.

 **Peni:** You can talk to us whenever you need us, Miles! We’re here for you.

 **Miles:** I know. And from now on, I will. I’m really glad I have you guys to lean on. Just like you can talk to me whenever you want.

 **Miles:** Gwen, thanks for trying to check on me. I appreciate it.

 **Gwen:** No problem. I would have come with Peter, but I figured it was a moment between Spider-Dad and Spider-Son.

 **Peter B:** What?

 **Porker:** Perfect timing!

 **Gwen:** You’re like Miles’ Spider-Dad.

 **Peter B:** Miles already has a father in case you hadn’t noticed.

 **Miles:** It’s cool, I can have two dads. It’s pretty neat actually.

 **Gwen:** See, there you go.

 **Noir:** That’s sweet.

 **Peni:** How adorable!

 **Porker:** Miles has admitted it. Your turn, B.

 **Miles:** Peter?

 **Gwen:** He’s probably in a state of shock.

 **Peni:** Oh, I’m sure he’ll snap out of it. Then we can go do something together! Please?

 **Gwen:** I’m up for it.

 **Porker:** Let’s hit the club!

 **Noir:** Not with the children.

 **Porker:** I bet you don’t know what a club is.

 **Noir:** We have clubs in 1933. They’re not for children. Let’s go have a soda.

 **Miles:** I’m cool with that.

 **Gwen:** I’ll warm up the generator and pick you guys up in about ten minutes.

 **Miles:** Yo, Peter, you still with us?

 **Peter:** Did you just call me your second dad?

 **Porker:** Progress can be slow, folks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank the junior novelization of Into the Spider-verse for giving me the ages of Peni, Miles and Gwen. I did not think Miles was 13 in the movie, but he is.


	4. Sleepless Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noir joins the Spider-Dad ranks.

**Noir:** It’s three in the morning, Peni. What are you still doing up?

 **Noir:** I see the green dot, doll. Ignoring me isn’t going to cause me to make tracks.

 **Peni:** I really should have programmed online availability options.

 **Noir:** You haven’t answered my question.

 **Peni:** I was just doing some work. What are you still doing up?

 **Noir:** I’ve got a case that’s all balled up. Been working late to straighten it all out.

 **Peni:** Do you want any help?

 **Nori:** I think you already know the answer.

 **Peni:** You’re always offering to help us. Why won’t you let us help you?

 **Noir:** I told you my world is dangerous, doll. No place for gals like you.

 **Peni:** I do dangerous stuff everyday! I can take on some Nazis.

 **Noir:** It’s not just the Nazis, and you don’t have to fight them, and you won’t. You don’t need to deal with my problems on top of yours.

 **Peni:** You are very frustrating.

 **Noir:** I get that a lot. You really should get to sleep.

 **Peni:** I will if you will.

 **Noir:** It’s a deal, doll.

**_Peni has logged off_ **

**_Noir has logged off_ **

…

 **Noir:** Peni.

 **Peni:** Peni is not here right now. Please leave a message.

 **Noir:** Very funny.

 **Noir:** At least you aren’t logging off this time.

 **Peni:** You saw that? Sorry…I just knew what you were going to say. Like I know what you’re going to say now.

 **Noir:** Be honest with me. Have you been sleeping lately?

 **Peni:** Not really. It’s been a rough couple of days.

 **Noir:** You want to talk about it?

 **Peni:** I’m okay, really. There’s just been a lot happening lately. I’ll go to sleep soon, promise.

**_Peni has logged off_ **

**Noir: @Gwen**

**Gwen:** I’m here, I’m here. What’s wrong?

 **Noir:** Sorry to wake you, doll. But I need to hop to Peni’s dimension for a moment.

 **Gwen:** No prob. I’ll fire up the generator and get you there in a couple of minutes. Is she okay?

 **Noir:** That’s what I plan to find out.

…

The holographic screen depicted all the bullet train routes that ran through New York City. Peni rubbed at her eyes, which burned from fatigue. SP//dr crawled onto the back of her hand and Peni felt its concern through their psychic link. Offering a weak smile, she gently stroked its back.

“I know. I will sleep. But first I have to finish pinpointing the weak spots in the transit security system.”

Peni regarded the holographic screen intently. The green crosses indicated places where the security was best and the places marked red needed the most improvement. Bringing her tablet over to her, Peni flicked through the security camera feed, figuring out the blind spots.

A warm, pleasant hum travelled up the back of her neck. Peni whirled around in surprise, delight welling within her at the sight of Noir standing in front of her. “Noir!” she exclaimed, leaping up and running to catch him in a hug. “You didn’t come to check on me, did you?”

Though Noir initially stiffened at the touch, as he wasn’t used to positive human contact, he relaxed in Peni’s embrace. He lightly set his arms around her tiny frame. “Wanted to make sure you were takin’ care of yourself.”

“I am.”

Her voice lacked conviction and Noir leaned back slightly. He regarded Peni with concern, from her bloodshot eyes to her dark circles. “Why can’t ya sleep, doll?”

“There was an attack,” Peni muttered, forehead resting against Noir’s chest. The exhaustion seeped deep into her bones and the warmth emitting from Noir’s body soothed her. “Someone set off a plasma bomb in one of the downtown bullet train stations. The casualties were high.”

Her voice was weary and tired and heavy with emotion. Noir pressed his hand against the back of her neck, his lips forming a grim frown. “I’m sorry.”

“It went off during rush hour. Somehow the culprit made it undetectable by our sensors.” A bitter smile crossed her features. “I love technology. But unfortunately, there’s no limit to its evolution. There were kids in that station…kids I knew from school. _I_ could have been in that station. I could be a picture on the memorial in the courtyard.”

Noir’s heart twisted painfully in his chest and Peni gave a small squeak as his arms tightened around her. He knew that every passing second was a chance of them getting killed, and the fact that they were heroes only increased their odds of dying. But sometimes it was easy to ignore that fact, about how much danger they constantly put themselves in. And sometimes it was hard, especially when Peni could have been so very close to dying, if she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But she was alive. She was safe. She was in his arms. He took a deep breath and pulled gently on the ends of her short hair. “You aren’t. I’m sorry, about your friends.”

“They weren’t really my friends,” said Peni softly. “But I wish I could have been there to save them.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once. But what you’re doin’ now? Workin’ like a dog to make sure this doesn’t happen again? It’s impressive, doll.”

Peni turned her head slightly, nuzzling against his trench coat, watching as he gestured towards the maps and security feed displayed on her multiple holographic screens. “Thanks. It doesn’t feel like enough, though. The sensors in all stations need a heavy upgrade. The testing of the bomb site revealed a new strain of plasma, so I have to make sure all possible variations are accounted for.”

“Do you have someone helpin’ ya?”

“Mm-hmm. Police officers are handing off my improvement strategies to be implemented. I suppose that’s one benefit of not having a secret identity. The authorities are always willing to help as much as they can.”

It was unsettling to Noir that Peni was exposed in her world. A secret identity provided privacy. She was a kid and already had to deal with the burdens of being a hero. She deserved a break somewhere. “Is there anythin’ I can do?”

“No.” Peeking up at him, Peni asked, “Can I help you with the case you’re having trouble with?”

“No,” answered Noir.

Peni let out a small huff of breath. “Really frustrating. But thank you, for coming to check on me. I guess I have been overdoing it. I just want to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“I understand. But ya can’t help the people if ya don’t take care of yourself.”

“I know.”

As Peni rubbed at her eyes with a large yawn, Noir asked. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Second floor, last room down the hall.”

Peni stepped away and grabbed him by the hand. Together they went upstairs and Noir paused to take in her room. Each wall was a different colour, pink, purple, blue and red. It was an odd combination but he liked the way the colours jumped out at him. The decoration represented the girl it belonged to—bright, vibrant and cheerful.

Peni collapsed into her bed, still in her school-uniform. SP//dr settled in a tiny homemade bed that rested on her nightstand table.

Noir pulled the orange covers over her body and ruffled her hair. “Goodnight, Peni.”

“Goodnight, Noir,” she murmured, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I love you.”

The sweet affection caused Noir’s heart to swell and happiness to build in his gut. “I love you too, doll. Sleep well.”

…

 **Gwen: @Noir** , did you make it home okay?

 **Noir:** Everything went smoothly. That’s a fine generator you invented.

 **Gwen:** Thanks! How’s Peni doing?

 **Peni:** Fine!

 **Noir:** All rested, doll?

 **Peni:** Yup! I slept like a baby. Even took a day off school so I could take a break.

 **Peter B:** Heard about the explosion. I’m glad you’re okay, Peni.

 **Miles:** Yeah, if there’s anything we can do to help, just let us know.

 **Porker:** We’ll be over there in a hot second.

 **Peni:** Thanks, guys! I caught the criminals almost immediately after it happened, so it’s really about preventing a repeat incident. What I needed most was sleep. But Noir made sure I got some.

 **Miles:** Looks like we have another Spider-Dad.

 **Peni:** Yup!

 **Noir:** I’m not so sure about that.

 **Porker:** It really does no good to fight it.

 **Peter B:** Just remember I was the first Spider-Dad. And the best one.

 **Miles:** Eh, jury’s still out.

 **Peter B:** Shut up.


	5. Movie Night

**Peni:** MOVIE NIGHT!

 **Gwen:** MOVIE NIGHT!

 **Miles:** MOVIE NIGHT!

 **Peni:** MOVIE NIGHT!

 **Miles:** MOVIE NIGHT!

 **Gwen:** MOVIE NIGHT!

 **Miles:** It doesn’t seem to be working.

 **Peni:** I think they’re ignoring us.

 **Gwen:** That’s a terrible idea.

**Gwen: @Noir @Porker @Peter B**

**Miles:** Guys come on we gotta figure out what movie we’re gonna watch or else it’ll be too late.

 **Peni:** Hmph. Fine. We’ll have our own movie night.

 **Miles:** With alcohol.

 **Peter B:** Like hell you are.

 **Gwen:** Woo! We got one! Good job, Miles. You even got him to swear.

 **Peter B:** It’s not swearing. Not really.

 **Miles:** To our tender ears it is.

 **Noir:** You kids need to calm down. Jumping down our necks isn’t going to make us move any quicker.

 **Gwen:** I disagree, because here you are.

 **Porker:** Can’t a pig take a shower without having to hear his laptop screaming at him?

 **Peni:** No.

 **Miles:** Nice! We’re all assembled. Time for movie night options.

 **Peter B:** Also known as the part where we virtually tear each other to pieces until we come across a movie that we all agree on.

 **Gwen:** That’s half the fun.

 **Miles:** How about the Godfather?

 **Peter B:** That’s rated R, Miles.

 **Miles:** So?

 **Peter B:** There are three people in this group very much under the age of 18.

 **Gwen:** I’m close.

 **Peter B:** Not close enough.

 **Noir:** What’s it about?

 **Porker:** Gangsters.

 **Noir:** No.

 **Miles:** Aw man.

 **Porker:** Harry Porcupine and the Philosopher’s Stone.

 **Gwen:** Harry Porcupine? Is that your version of Harry Potter?

 **Porker:** That’s a stupid name.

 **Peni:** Star Wars Episode 25!

 **Miles:** I haven’t even seen Episodes 1-24!

 **Gwen:** You are a failure as a nerd.

 **Miles:** First off, I can’t be a failure when most of those movies don’t even exist in my world. Second of all, I’m not a nerd.

 **Peter B:** He’s right. He’s a dork. Completely different.

 **Miles:** You are not helping.

 **Peni:** Do you have any suggestions, Noir?

 **Noir:** None appropriate for you kids.

 **Miles:** We’re tough, we can handle it.

 **Peter B:** You cried at Bambi last month.

 **Miles:** I still handled it!

 **Peni:** Ooh, can we watch another Disney relic?

 **Peter B:** They may be relics in your dimension, but here we just call them classics.

 **Porker:** He doesn’t want to admit that he was old enough to see some of those relics in theaters.

 **Peter B:** You make a lot of old guy cracks for someone who still hasn’t revealed their age.

 **Porker:** That’s classified information.

 **Gwen:** We’ll get to the bottom of it. We’re persistent.

 **Porker:** The word you’re looking for is annoying.

 **Peni:** What about the Stars That Shine For You?

 **Peter B:** That sounds like a chick-flick.

 **Peni:** We don’t call them chick-flicks. We call them romantic comedies.

 **Gwen:** So do we, but Peter chose the other term.

 **Peter B:** What I mean to say is that those aren’t my kind of movies.

 **Miles:** You don’t even watch them with MJ?

 **Peter B:** All right, I’ll rephrase. I only watch them with the love of my life.

 **Miles:** I thought we were also loves of your life.

 **Peter B:** You are, but the kind I want to push off a cliff some days.

 **Gwen:** Aw, thanks!

 **Miles:** Straight Outta Compton?

 **Peter B:** Rated R, Miles.

 **Miles:** Dang.

 **Noir:** I admire your tenacity, kiddo.

 **Miles:** I’ll win one day.

 **Peter B:** Yeah, when you’re 18.

 **Porker:** It’s getting late, people. We really do have to pick a movie.

 **Gwen:** We’re trying!

 **Noir:** Different tastes and age restrictions make it difficult.

 **Peni:** What about the movie Ham mentioned a while ago? Babe?

 **Porker:** A wonderful choice. I’m honestly surprised I didn’t mention it myself.

 **Miles:** Sure, I’m game.

 **Peter B:** Babe works for me. It’s been years since I’ve seen it, so I don’t remember much. It won’t make Miles emotional, will it?

 **Miles:** Very funny. I saw your tears when Bambi's mother died, don’t try to play with me.

 **Noir:** I certainly haven’t seen a movie about a pig before. I’d be interested to see it.

 **Gwen:** All right, we have a winner!

 **Peter B:** Cool. Meet me at my place in ten minutes?

 **Gwen:** Sounds good.

 **Peni:** Maybe it would be easier if we did a rotation. Like each month, one of us picks a movie that we all watch.

 **Porker:** I feel like that’d be worse. Then we’d just be complaining through the movie rather than before it.

 **Peni:** Good point.


	6. Detention Kid

**Miles:** I have to bail on you guys tonight. I’ve got a lot of homework to do.

 **Peter B:** Boo. Buzzkill.

 **Noir:** What he means to say is good for you for taking school seriously.

 **Peter B:** I would have said that if that's what I meant. But it isn't.

 **Gwen:** You were nagging us for talking during school hours two days ago.

 **Peter B:** Yeah, because you were at school. It’s Friday night. Who does homework on a Friday night?

 **Miles:** Me.

 **Porker:** We’ll save a milkshake for you, kiddo. Good luck with your German studies.

 **Miles:** I’m not even taking German.

 **Porker:** Eh.

 **Peni:** Do you need any help?

 **Miles:** Nah, I’m good. Just gotta wade my way through it all.

 **Porker:** We’ll drop off that milkshake for you. You’ll need the sugar dose.

 **Noir:** We’ll miss you, kid.

 **Miles:** Hey, there’s always next time.

 **Peter B:** Good luck with your homework, bud.

 **Miles:** Thanks! Have fun.

**_Miles has logged off_ **

**Peter B:** You ready to pick us up, Gwen?

 **Gwen:** Give me fifteen minutes. Where are we going?

 **Noir:** We can cool our feet in Miles’ dimension. That burger joint is the bee’s knees.

 **Peni:** And afterwards we can go see Miles!

 **Porker:** I had the idea of getting him a milkshake, so someone else should pay for it.

 **Peni:** How generous of you.

 **Peter B:** All right gang, see you in fifteen minutes.

…

**_Gwen has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Gwen has invited Miles and Peni to Private Chat_ **

**Gwen:** Spill the beans, Miles.

 **Peni:** You think he’s lying too?

 **Miles:** Can’t a guy put his academic career first?

 **Gwen:** You can. You sometimes do. But when it's a choice between hanging with us or doing your homework, homework does not usually come out victorious.

 **Miles:** Uh…it’s a lot of homework?

 **Peni:** Now you’re not even trying.

 **Miles:** Fine. I can’t come because I have detention until five.

 **Peni:** Gasp! A delinquent!

 **Gwen:** Why didn’t you just say so? You might get a bit of grief from Noir and B, but they’ll drop it pretty quickly. Ham won’t even care.

 **Miles:** Oh, Ham is going to care.

 **Peni:** What happened?

 **Miles:** We had to dissect a pig during science lab. I refused to do it. I couldn’t even do the online simulation. I also may have stormed out of class in a rather dramatic fashion. So I got a detention. On the bright side, the teacher is allowing me to do a report in place of the dissection so I don’t get a zero.

 **Gwen:** Oh. Yeah. I see where you’re coming from.

 **Peni:** I forgot animal dissection used to be done in school labs.

 **Gwen:** You don’t have to do them?

 **Peni:** Nope! It was made illegal years ago.

 **Miles:** Not even for medical testing?

 **Peni:** We’ve got cures for most diseases, except the common cold, because that’s kind of impossible to cure.

 **Gwen:** Nifty.

 **Gwen:** I can see how that would have been awkward to explain in the group chat. But you could have just said you’d be late.

 **Miles:** I’m not good at thinking up cover stories on the spot. But maybe I can stop by after my detention. I can say I needed a break and decided to come anyway.

 **Gwen:** Perfect. We’ll keep your little secret.

 **Peni:** And keep Ham from being traumatized.

…

Gwen tilted her head back and dropped the cherry into her mouth. She let out a small splutter as a cold blob was suddenly plopped on the tip of her nose. She instinctively swiped at it and when she pulled her hand back it was to see whipped cream stuck to her skin. She glared at Ham, who smirked at her.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to play with your food?” she sneered.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to unhinge your jaw like a snake?”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

When Peni reached for her basket of fries Gwen pushed it closer to her. Peni grabbed a handful to shove into her mouth, the salt falling from her fingers and dusting the table surface. “Can I have the ketchup?” she asked thickly, her words just barely distinguishable through the mashed fries stuffed into her cheeks.

“Swallow the food first and then talk, sweetheart,” admonished Noir, sliding the bottle of ketchup towards her.

Peni gulped down her food and started drizzling the condiment onto the fries. She peeked over at Ham, who was dunking his own fries into his vanilla milkshake. “Want some ketchup with that?” she asked innocently.

“Do I look like an animal to you?” deadpanned Ham.

“How can you eat that?” asked Peter, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “It’s gross.”

“It’s a delicacy,” returned Ham. “What’s gross is watching you eat these burgers.”

Lettuce and grease stuck to Peter’s chin and the corners of his mouth. Peter raised a brow and took a pointed bite of his double cheeseburger, making loud chewing sounds. Noir swatted his shoulder. “Cut it out, wise guy.”

“He started it.”

Gwen shook her head at their antics, using her straw to stir the contents of her strawberry milkshake. “I can’t bring you anywhere.”

“What should we get Miles?” asked Ham, squinting at the plastic-covered menu propped up against the napkin dispenser. “Kid loves his cookies and cream shakes. Probably needs some brain food too.”

“Definitely calls for a cheeseburger with onion rings,” agreed Peter. He snuck a glance at his watch, which told him it was just after five. “We can probably finish up in the next ten minutes and bring it to him."

“He’ll be by soon,” said Peni idly, taking a bite out of her chicken burger. Something hard kicked her knee and she jolted with a small yelp. She looked up in surprise to see Gwen staring studiously at her milkshake and Peni’s eyes widened slightly, realizing her error.

“What do you mean?” asked Peter with narrowed eyes, not missing her startled expression. “I thought he was bogged down with homework.”

“He is,” said Peni quickly. “He is. But he mentioned he needed a break.”

“Not in the group chat,” said Peter, leaning forwards on his elbow and locking eyes on the girl. “Because I checked before Gwen picked me up, and I was the last stop before here. So how could you possibly know?”

Peni shot her gaze to Gwen for help. The fifteen-year-old coughed into her hand and started to rise. “I gotta go to the bathroom—”

Ham grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back to the booth. “No you don’t.”

“Jig is up gals,” said Noir, crossing his arms and regarding the two teens. “What is Miles really doing?”

“I don’t think that’s for us to say,” squeaked Peni.

“Is he in trouble?” asked Peter seriously.

“No! Not at all.”

“You can grill him when he gets here,” muttered Gwen. She levelled Peni with a flat look. “So much for keeping it a secret.”

“It slipped out!” protested Peni.

Ham, Noir and Peter exchanged perplexed glances. They did not have time to dwell on possible situations that Miles may have gotten himself into, for the boy himself appeared. He thrust open the door to the diner and immediately made tracks to the very back corner, where the Spider-People were shrouded by shadows and tall, decorative, leafy plants.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, dropping down in the booth beside Ham.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” drawled Peter, shooting a look at Peni and Gwen, who slunk low in their seats. “I thought you were drowning in homework.”

“I am,” said Miles. “But I, uh, needed a break. I saw in the group chat that you guys would be here, so I figured I’d save you a trip to my place. And grace you with my presence.”

“When did you decide that?”

A little bit confused by the question Miles shrugged. “Uh, like five minutes ago?”

“Interesting. Peni mentioned you’d be stopping by exactly around that time. Since when do you two have a psychic link?”

Miles gave Peni a nervous glance. “Er…since yesterday?”

“Try again.”

“Peni,” groaned Miles, letting his head fall to rest on the tabletop.

“Sorry!” said Peni with a wince. “I’ll do better next time.”

“There ain’t gonna be a next time,” said Noir pointedly. “We shouldn’t have secrets among us.”

“Seriously, kid, what’s up?” asked Peter, regarding Miles intently.

“It was just detention,” admitted Miles.

“Detention?” echoed Noir.

“Yeah, it’s a school punishment where you have to stay after school for an hour or two.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” asked Ham in bewilderment.

“I figured I might save myself a lecture,” muttered Miles. “Already got one from my parents.”

“Did you get into a fight?” asked Peter with a raised brow. “Did you deface school property? Were you doing drugs?”

“No, no and absolutely not.”

“Then I don’t care. You know how many detentions I got in high school? A lot.”

“I believe it,” said Miles with a smile. “Thanks. Um, sorry I lied.”

“Just try not to make it a habit. Noir’s right. I’d prefer if we didn’t have secrets.”

“Gotcha.”

“So why did you get detention in the first place?”

“Uh…” Miles shot a quick look at Ham, which the pig did not miss. “Okay, I know we shouldn’t keep secrets and I’m all for that, but right now I’d prefer not to say.”

“Peni and Gwen get to know, but not us?” asked Peter with a pout.

“We’re special,” quipped Gwen.

“And a coupla rascals,” said Noir with a hint of exasperation. He glanced at Peni, who beamed innocently at him. He clicked his tongue and gave her hair a fond tussle. “I guess if it ain’t serious, ya can keep it to yourself, kiddo.”

“Totally not serious,” promised Miles. “I’m starved. I’m gonna go grab some food.”

He went over to the counter and placed his order. The cashier was staring at him oddly and he wondered if he had a booger sticking out of his nose. Before he could make a subtle swipe to check, she asked in bewilderment, “Is that a stuffed pig in a Spider-Man costume?”

Miles hastily shot his hand up and came into contact with Ham’s face. The pig had jumped onto his head with him realizing, as one of his cartoony abilities was to change his weight whenever he felt like it. “Uh…yeah. He’s my emotional support animal,” he said, cheeks flushing with slight embarrassment. “I’m just gonna…wait over here.”

He went over to the tables lining the wall next to the counter. “Aw, thanks. You’re my emotional support human,” said Ham cheekily, still splayed out comfortably over the thirteen-year-old’s head.

“Very funny.” Miles reached up and pulled Ham into his lap. “What are you doing?”

“For reasons I cannot begin to fathom, your detention had something to do with me.”

“It didn’t!”

He said it too quickly and frantically for his claim to be believable. Ham gave a snort. “You are an awful liar.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Spill the beans. I’m a reporter, you know. I’ll drag it out of you eventually.”

“It’s kind of messed up,” said Miles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Lay it on me.”

“Um…okay. In our world, we have science labs. And in those science labs, we dissect things.”

“Oookkkaaay,” drawled Ham. “Continue.”

“Oh man. Okay. Our project in lab today was to dissect a dead pig and I refused and stormed out of class and that’s why I got a detention.”

Miles sat still, bracing himself for Ham’s reaction. The pig was frozen for a solid minute before uttering, “That _is_ messed up.”

“I told you.”

“Eh. My world can be whacked too.”

Miles gaped at Ham, having not expected the pig to be so dismissive. “Seriously?”

Ham arched a brow at him. “What? I’ve been watching you guys eat meat for the past couple of months. What’s the difference?”

“Oh. That’s…uh, that’s a good point.”

Ham reached up to flick Miles’ forehead. “You’re an idiot. But thanks for taking my feelings into account.”

Miles lightly rested his chin on top of Ham’s head. “You’re welcome. Want to write the report I have to do in place of the dissection I refused?”

“Heck no. It’s not my schooling career.”

…

 **Miles:** I hate to be that guy but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight.

 **Porker:** How many pigs do you people dissect?

 **Miles:** This time it 100% is homework. There’s a massive test on Monday that I have to be ready for and I haven’t started my study notes yet.

 **Peter B:** I don’t think even you would use the same excuse twice, so I believe you.

 **Miles:** Thanks, I think.

 **Peni:** And if it is just a cover story, don’t tell me. I guess I’m not all that great at keeping secrets.

 **Noir:** We’ll stop by to see you, Miles.

 **Gwen:** What if we grab a pizza and help you study?

 **Miles:** That would be awesome.

 **Peter B:** Then we’ll see you in a bit, buddy.

 **Miles:** Hey, Ham, can you grab me a milkshake?

 **Porker:** You got it, kiddo.


	7. Distress Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains mentions of blood, but nothing too graphic.
> 
> Features Hobgoblin briefly, with random characterization because I have not seen any iteration of the Hobgoblin and I just picked a villain for this. He's not important.
> 
> Also featuring Nurse Aunt May.

**Gwen:** Miles, I broke my headphones. Can I borrow yours?

**Gwen: @Miles**

**Peter B:** Isn’t this the second pair you’ve broken in the last month?

 **Gwen:** Third, actually.

 **Peter B:** That’s not an improvement.

 **Noir:** You need to take better care of your possessions, doll.

 **Gwen:** It’s not my fault. Not really. I don’t mean to throw my backpack as hard as I do.

 **Porker:** You’ve been Spider-Woman for what, two years? And you still haven’t figured out how to control your spider-strength? Get it together.

 **Gwen:** I manage it just fine. For the most part.

 **Gwen:** Do you guys have a spare set of headphones I can borrow or not?

 **Porker:** Not.

 **Noir:** Sorry, kid.

 **Peni:** We don’t have headphones in my dimension. We have wireless implants in our ears!

 **Gwen:** Gross.

 **Noir:** Did it hurt?

 **Peni:** Nope! Didn’t feel a thing. And the sound quality is perfect!

 **Gwen:** Starting to rethink my initial opinion.

 **Gwen:** Will those implants work in my dimension?

 **Peni:** Probably not. I could try to modify them, but I’m working on a super secret project at the moment, so it’ll be a while before I get to it.

 **Peter B:** Gwen, just buy new headphones.

 **Gwen:** I am a poor teenager with a father who refuses to buy me new ones until Christmas. And Christmas has already passed, so I have to wait a whole year. I need them now. B, I know you have headphones I can borrow.

 **Peter B:** I do and no, you can’t have them.

 **Gwen:** I won’t break them!

 **Peter B:** I’m sure that’s what you told the last three before you killed them.

 **Gwen:** Ugh

 **Gwen: @Miles** come on man, help a girl out.

 **Peter B:** He hasn’t been online today.

 **Peni:** I’m sure he’s fine!

 **Peter B:** I’m sure he is. I’m not worried or anything.

 **Porker:** Yes you are.

 **Gwen:** He’s probably just busy with his folks or friends or schoolwork. Or Spider-Man business.

 **Noir:** That’s the part that’s worrying.

 **Gwen:** I’ll pop over to his dimension in an hour or two to see what’s up.

 **Peter B:** And to steal his headphones?

 **Gwen:** To borrow his headphones, thank you very much. I’ll be returning them. I’m no thief.

…

Miles had never seen so much blood. Especially not coming from his own body.

Agony ripped through his right side, pulsating with every jerk and twist he made. A long, ugly gash tore through his flesh and his stomach twisted just to think about it. He had used his webbing to patch it up and so far, the make-shift stitching was keeping together. It was pink from the blood oozing from the wound but at least it had stopped dripping down his body.

Miles swung between the skyscrapers of the Brooklyn streets, the glow from the buildings, streetlights and digital signs providing more than enough light in the evening hours. He shot a frantic glance over his shoulder to check the status of his pursuer.

_Dang it!_

The Hobgoblin was catching up.

“The real Spider-Man didn’t run away!” the masked vigilante taunted from his perch on his hoverboard, which he had proclaimed as the Goblin Glider.

Miles grit his teeth together as anger surged through his chest. He turned to face Hobgoblin and snapped, “Who said I was running away?”

He abruptly dropped from his web and aimed at the bottom of the glider. He fired two strings of webbing and gave a sharp yank, pulling the glider towards the side of one of the buildings. Hobgoblin jerked the glider upwards at the last second and Miles slammed through the windows. He crashed into an office and rolled across the carpeted floor with a soft yelp.

“Not how I expected that to go,” he gasped, clutching at his side.

Shards of glass punctured through the webbing covering his wound. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining them a bright red. Miles took a shaky, shuddering breath as fear coursed through his body. He could not fight Hobgoblin in this state.

“Come out, come out, little spider!” Hobgoblin sang, hovering in front of the shattered windows. “I have a surprise for you!”

Miles took a split second to register the Jack O’Lanterns clutched in his hands. He sprang to his feet, biting down hard on his bottom lip to quell the cry of pain. He sprinted for the door as Hobgoblin thrust the Halloween-themed bombs into the space. Miles was in the corridor when the blast went off, the walls exploding into chunks of debris and plaster. The force sent him flying towards the other end, slamming into a set of elevator doors.

 _At least this goblin isn’t as big as the original,_ Miles thought.

He pulled apart the doors and swiftly dropped down the chute, ruby red drops raining down from his side as he fell. He picked a random floor and rolled out, quickly shutting the door behind him. He picked the first door he came upon and took refuge inside.

It was another office. Not sure how much time he had, Miles grabbed the nearest phone and hastily typed in Ganke’s cell number.

“Please answer, please answer!” he chanted softly.

“Hello?”

“It’s me!”

“Miles? Where are you calling from?”

“I don’t have time to explain! I need you to contact one of the guys. I need help, man, and quick.”

The hurried way in which Miles spoke spurred Ganke into action. He practically leapt onto Miles’ bunk, grabbing hold of the laptop he knew was used to communicate to the other Spider-People. “You got it. Are you okay?”

“No. Tell them I’m at the Gregor Corporation Complex.” The tell-tale hum of Hobgoblin’s glider caused Miles’ heart to jump into his throat. “He’s coming,” he hissed. “I gotta go.”

The dial tone hummed in Ganke’s ear and he tossed his phone aside. He frantically accessed the group chat and typed the first name that popped into his head.

…

 **Miles: @PeterB** Miles needs help ASAP

 **Peter B:** Who is this? Where is Miles?

 **Miles:** It's Ganke. He’s at the Gregor Corporation Complex and he’s in serious trouble.

**Peter B: @Gwen**

**Gwen:** On it. Portal should be opening for you now. I’m coming with you.

…

As the only Spider-Man in his universe, Peter had never known his Spidey Sense was capable of leading him to other Spider-People. He was extremely grateful for this as he followed the insistent buzzing in his head that soundlessly directed him towards Miles.

Gwen was right on his tail and the pair crawled up the side of the Gregor Corporation Complex. When they reached the thirtieth floor, their Spidey Sense went haywire for a second before settling down, informing them they had finally reached Miles.

Through the window they could see the boy, who was lying in a small pool of blood, slumped beneath one of the desks.

Peter punched his way through the glass.

Gwen bit back a shriek of surprise.  Shards rained down to the sidewalk below and she took a quick, sweeping glance to ensure there were no passing pedestrians that would be struck. She then carefully climbed through the hastily-made hole.

Just as Peter reached Miles, the door leading to the office blew off its hinges. Hobgoblin was framed by the doorway and the confused voice that left the villain did not match the manic grin etched onto his mask. “There are three Spider-Men?”

“Spider-Woman,” corrected Gwen curtly before using her webbing to whip a desk towards Hobgoblin, sending him flying backwards.

“Stay with him,” snarled Peter, his eyes locked on the glider from which Hobgoblin had been forcibly removed. The blood gathered on the side of the flying device sent rage burning through his veins.

“B—”

“I mean it, G. Do not leave him. I’ve got this.”

Gwen gave a nod. Peter took off after Hobgoblin and Gwen knelt down, gently pressing her hands against Miles’ side. The boy let out a groan of pain. “I know, dude. It sucks.”

“Gwen?” he whispered.

“It’s me. Peter’s gone to handle Hobgoblin.”

“He needs help.”

“He’ll be fine. You definitely aren’t, so don’t even think about moving,” chided Gwen.

Miles let out an annoyed, strained breath. “I can’t believe I let him get me like this.”

“It’s part of the job. We’ve all taken serious hits.”

“But you got back up,” said Miles stubbornly. “I probably shouldn’t have even called you—ow!”

He rubbed the spot where Gwen had swatted him. “Just because you’re injured doesn’t mean I’m not going to hit you for being stupid,” she snapped. “During one fight, I got a concussion. I retreated. Had to lie low for a few days until my healing factor took care of it. I’m glad you called for help, Miles. If you hadn’t…”

Her voice trailed off and her fingers moved to tighten against Miles’ arm. He laid his hand overtop her wrist and said apologetically, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You shouldn’t have,” agreed Gwen, hastily blinking back tears. The possibility of Miles dying was not one she was going to contemplate. Not now. “Whenever you need us, all you have to do is call. I didn’t build that generator for nothing, you know.”

“You really need to give that thing a better name,” said Miles with laugh. He immediately flinched and muttered, “Ow, laughing hurts.”

“Then don’t laugh, dork.”

Miles had managed to recover the wound with more webbing before his friends had arrived. Gwen kept her hands secure against the injury, knowing that the pressure would at least help prevent more bleeding. As they waited, their heightened senses could hear Peter knocking Hobgoblin throughout the complex. If the villain’s cursing was anything to go by it was a one-sided battle.

“Dang. Peter’s kicking his butt.”

“Yeah,” said Gwen with a grin. “He’s furious. Saw you lying here and bashed through the window.”

Miles craned his neck slightly to peek at the mangled floor-to-ceiling windows. “Wow. That’s a big hole.”

“Yeah. He should be done soon. You’re not going to pass out or anything, are you?”

“No.”

“Cool.”

Seeing the steady rise and fall of Miles’ chest caused some of the tension to leave Gwen’s shoulders. Her senses were on high alert for Hobgoblin even as her eyes were trained steadily on her friend. Her knee dipped into the puddle of blood and she felt the nausea lurch in her gut.

“Were you bleeding for long?”

“Not really,” he muttered. He tried focussing on Gwen’s face, but it difficult with his twisting vision. “But I don’t feel good.”

“Blood loss will do that to you,” said Gwen lightly.

It was only a few minutes later when Peter came bursting back into the office, barely any scrapes to show from his fight. “Are you okay?” Miles asked immediately.

“You stole my line.” Peter knelt next to Miles and regarded the wound. “How are you feeling, buddy?”

“Eh. I’m not dying.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“What happened to Hobgoblin?”

“He’s taking some time to chill and think about what he’s done,” said Peter calmly. He eased his arms beneath Miles’ skinny form and carefully lifted him up. Gwen straightened and offered, “If you’re good to bring him to Aunt May’s, I can clean up here.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Peter. “You won’t have to worry about the green freak coming for an encore appearance. Destroy that thing, will you?”

Peter gave his head a jerk towards the Goblin Glider, which lay haphazardly in front of the door. Gwen saluted him. “Sure thing, Boss.”

Peter approached the gap in the windows and stretched out one arm, the other cradling Miles securely to his chest. “I can swing myself,” he protested, even as his body vehemently disagreed.

Apparently, so did Peter. “Not a chance.”

Miles stomach gave a sharp drop as Peter suddenly jumped out of the building. The sensation quickly went away as Peter fell into a rhythm with his web-slinging. Miles closed his eyes and let his head fall against Peter’s chest.

“You doing okay?”

“Fine,” muttered Miles.

“How’s your side?”

“Hurts.”

Peter knew Miles wasn’t having a smooth ride. Web-slinging wasn’t always a graceful endeavor, but it was especially jostling when doing so one-handed. But the thirteen-year-old didn’t complain, even as every slight jerk sent agony screaming up his right side.

“Just hang in there, bud.”

They arrived at May’s house in Queens and Peter gave the doorbell a few frantic rings. May peered cautiously through the glass panes of the front door. Upon spotting them, her eyes lit up in surprise. She quickly thrust open the door and ushered them inside, her attention immediately falling on the injured child.

“Put him on the couch,” she instructed. “What happened?”

“He was attacked by a villain called Hobgoblin. The edge of his glider caught him in the side. He used webbing to patch it up, but he was bleeding pretty heavily. I don’t know how much blood he’s lost. We arrived on the scene after the fact.”

“Is he still conscious?”

“Yo,” said Miles groggily. “Hey, Mrs. Parker. Sorry to bother you.”

“No bother at all. And I’ve told you, call me Aunt May.”

Peter set Miles on the couch and gently hooked his fingers beneath his mask. He peeled it off, revealing a young face creased with severe discomfort. Peter’s heart ached, feeling the pain Miles was going through.

Brown eyes blinked blearily up at him. “Shouldn’t we be at a hospital?”

“Sorry, bud. Hospitals ask too many questions and aren’t always reliable. Aunt May used to be a nurse. She’ll take care of you.”

Peter lowered himself onto the arm of the couch closest to Miles and yanked off his own mask. May retrieved her first-aid kit, one she had developed especially for her Peter when he had been Spider-Man. She carefully pulled down Miles’ costume until his injury was revealed. She started to peel off the webbing and Miles gave pained whimpers with each tug of the sticky substance.

Peter reached out and grasped Miles’ hand. “You’re doing great,” he encouraged.

Miles intertwined fingers with Peter, greatly appreciating the comfort. He focussed on the warmth Peter provided, squeezing whenever the pain became a bit too much. “Really?” he asked, letting out a soft hiss as another piece of webbing was removed. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

May finished and studied the wound, which had promptly begun bleeding once the blockage was removed. “Here, Peter.”

Peter took the cloth she handed him and pressed it over Miles’ wound. “Ow!” he cried.

“I know, I know,” said Peter. He tightened his grip on Miles’ hand. “You’ve got this, kiddo.”

“Do you know how long you were bleeding?” asked May.

“Um, three minutes, I think?” said Miles, trying to focus on the question and not the pain firing through his body. “I got the webbing on it as soon as I got away from Hobgoblin for a minute. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” said Peter. “That was a smart idea, kid.”

“The webbing won’t infect the wound,” assured May. “Peter is right. It was the right choice.”

“Am I going to need stitches?” asked Miles, dreading the answer but needing to know.

“We’ll see if it keeps bleeding after ten minutes. From a glance the wound doesn’t seem to be deep, so I don’t think so.”

It came as a great relief to Miles when, ten minutes later, the bleeding lessened. He really didn’t want to experience stitches in a non-hospital setting. May used a wet cloth to clean his wound before applying antiseptic lotion.

“I can do the bandages,” offered Peter. He took the roll of gauze and eased Miles into a sitting position. “There you go. Almost done.” He wrapped the gauze around Miles’ side, making sure it was completely covered. “Boom. You survived.”

“Barely,” said Miles with a tired smile.

“How does that feel, dear?” asked May.

Miles carefully stood up and gave a few experimental twists. “Good,” he said with a grateful smile. “Thank you. I was pretty freaked out for a minute.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Lightly setting a hand on his shoulder, she said, “Whenever you find yourself injured from a fight, you come to me. No matter what time it is. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You can spend the night, if you’d like. By the morning, your healing factor should have it taken care of.”

“That’s a good idea,” voiced Peter. “You don’t have to lug yourself back to school and if the cut starts bleeding again, she can help you.”

“Um, sure, that’d be great,” said Miles, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I don’t have clothes or anything—”

“I’m sure some of my Peter’s old clothes will fit you.” When Miles’ eyes grew wide, she waved down his nervous protests. “Really, they’re just clothes. I’ll grab them for you. Besides, I’m going to need your costume if I’m going to patch it up.”

Her voice held a tone that indicated there was no room for argument and Miles gave a feeble nod. Five minutes later, he was in fresh pajamas that were two sizes too big and Gwen immediately burst into giggles when she finally arrived.

“You look like a kid playing dress up.”

“Shut up,” said Miles with a huff, sinking back into the couch cushions.

“I think he looks cute,” teased Peter, giving Miles’ cheek a pinch.

“Shut _up_.” Miles swatted his hand away. He glanced over at Gwen and muttered in embarrassment, “Uh, thanks for cleaning up my…blood? That’s really weird to say.”

Gwen shrugged. “Eh, it wasn’t the grossest thing I’ve done. Besides, we can say you owe me.”

“Fair enough.” Eyebrow raising, he asked, “What _is_ the grossest thing you’ve done?”

“I don’t think we need to know,” interjected Peter, shooting Gwen a pointed look. “I’m sure it’s going to give me nightmares.”

Gwen stuck out her tongue at him and whispered to Miles, “The grossest thing I’ve done is watch B eat.”

“I heard that.”

“Intentional,” sang Gwen. She then gave a yelp when he tossed a couch cushion at her face. “Hey!”

Miles let out a laugh and then groaned when his side ached in protest. “Ow. Stop making me laugh.”

“Say sorry, Peter.”

Peter reached out and wrapped an arm over Miles’ shoulders. “Sorry,” he said in a dramatic voice.

“Thank you,” returned Miles. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Those pain relievers Aunt May gave you should kick in soon. Then I can make you bust gut as often as I want.”

“Which will be hard, since you’re not funny,” said Gwen with a snicker.

Miles leaned his head back and rested it lightly against Peter’s arm. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Peter, giving him a frown. “Of course we did. I’m glad you asked for help.”

“My desire to live won over my pride,” said Miles dryly.

Gwen moved to cuddle against Miles’ good side, tucking her chin against his shoulder. “I’m just glad we reached you in time,” she said softly.

Sympathy swelling in his chest at the haunted look in the fifteen-year-old’s eyes, Peter lowered his hand to rest against the back of her neck. “Me too. We should work on a better system for distress calls.”

“I’m sure Peni will figure something out,” muttered Miles with a yawn.

Gwen let out a gasp. “Peni! The guys!”

Peter winced. “Ooh, they are probably losing their minds right about now.”

…

**Peni: @Miles @Gwen @PeterB**

**Peni:** SERIOUSLY SOMEONE TELL US WHAT’S WRONG

 **Noir:** It’s been an hour. Miles must be in serious trouble. Isn’t there a way you can bring us there, Peni?

 **Peni:** No, I don’t have a multidimensional transporter yet. Gwen’s got the only functioning one. This is awful!

 **Porker:** Everyone chill out.

 **Peni:** I can’t chill out!

 **Porker:** Sure you can. Just put a few ice-cubes down your pants.

 **Noir:** You think this is the time for jokes?

 **Porker:** I think that Peter and Gwen are already on the job. They’ll take care of him. We just have to wait.

 **Peni:** Oh, I hate waiting.

 **Gwen:** Hey!

 **Peni:** FINALLY

 **Noir:** Is the little guy okay?

 **Gwen:** He’s fine! A villain cut him across his side and he was bleeding pretty badly. But Peter and I got to him in time. We’re all with Aunt May right now.

 **Peni:** BRING US OVER

 **Noir:** We’d like to see the kid with our own eyes.

 **Gwen:** Where’s the please?

 **Porker:** I bought you a new pair of headphones.

 **Gwen:** I’ll have the portals open in a few minutes!

 **Gwen:** You better not be messing with me.

 **Porker:** Would I ever do that to you?

 **Peni:** Now you don’t have to steal Miles’ headphones!

 **Gwen:** We’re gonna keep that between us.

 **Porker:** It’s a group chat. He’s going to see it.

 **Gwen:** Peni delete the message with your admin powers.

 **Peni:** Nah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was initially meant to be just Peter who went to help Miles but Gwen wiggled her way into the chapter.


	8. You Deserve Better

**Peni:** Noiiiiiiiiiiir! Do you wanna come over? We can play video games!

 **Noir:** You know I’m no good at those things, doll.

 **Peni:** I know! That’s why I like playing with you, because I always win!

 **Noir:** Wisecracker.

 **Peni:** Or we could go get some food. Drown in sugar. Whatever you want so long as you come visit! It’s been forever.

 **Noir:** It’s only been a month.

 **Peni:** Exactly! A whole month since we last saw each other. I don’t even remember what you look like.

 **Noir:** It’s not a particularly handsome mug to begin with.

 **Peni:** Oh, stop it. I think your scars are cool.

 **Peni:** So are you gonna come over?

 **Noir:** Sorry sweetheart, I’m bogged down in work.

 **Peni:** Well, I could come over and just watch you work.

 **Noir:** You know the answer.

 **Peni:** Let me come to your dimension just once! Pleeeeaaaase! I’ll have my SP//dr mech with me. I’ll be fine.

 **Noir:** I know you are capable of taking care of yourself, but my world is an ugly one. You don’t need to see it.

 **Peni:** Fine. I guess I’ll find something else to entertain myself with.

 **Noir:** I’ll visit as soon as I can.

 **Peni:** Okie-dokie!

**_Noir has logged off_ **

**_Peni has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Peni invited Gwen to Private Chat_ **

**Gwen:** So I’m the lucky something that gets to entertain you?

 **Peni:** Yup!

 **Peni:** You’re also the only other one online right now.

 **Gwen:** I’m honoured.

 **Gwen:** Is there a particular reason this conversation is happening in a private chat?

 **Peni:** Weellll

 **Gwen:** You want me to bring you to Noir’s dimension.

 **Peni:** Kinda. If you’re okay with it.

 **Gwen:** Absolutely.

 **Peni:** Really?

 **Gwen:** I mean, he’s clearly not going to loosen up about this. He’s got the whole brooding mystery guy thing down pat. We can just take a peek, see what the fuss is about.

 **Peni:** Woo! I’ll have SP//dr ready in a few minutes! You’re the best, Gwen!

 **Gwen:** I know.

…

The two girls stepped through the portal and into an alley. Gwen glanced at SP//dr, whose bright colours were starting to hurt her vision in the gloomy and dull atmosphere. “I guess we’re not leaving this alley.”

“Well, we don’t have to explore,” said Peni from her place inside the mech. “I just wanted a quick look.”

They crept forwards and peered around the corner. Though Gwen knew Noir’s world was black and white, it still amazed her to see it in person. The sky was grey, the streets were black, and the buildings were varying shades of grey and black.

SP//dr’s red eyes squinted upwards. Peni hummed in thought. “I dunno. It’s hard to tell. Hey Gwen, do you think it’s day or night?”

“It was day when we left our dimensions and we've learned there's no time difference between our worlds. I don't even think it would matter. The sky is probably always grey."

“I mean, if the sky goes black for nighttime, then this world probably gets even darker.”

“This is so depressing. Everything looks the same.” Gwen wandered into the street and stared up at the streetlights. “How does light even work in this world?”

“We perceive light as white,” said Peni as SP//dr gave a shrug of its mechanical limbs. “I’m sure it works the same way here. It just might not be as effective.”

“This is trippy. We need to get the guy some more Rubik’s cubes. Maybe the triangle-shaped ones.”

Her Spidey Sense went off a split second before the gunshot echoed throughout the narrow alley. Gwen spun around and SP//dr leapt in front of her, the bullets ricocheting off its body. “We got company!” called Peni.

“Then let’s entertain them!”

Gwen aimed her webbing at the corner of the building and swung forwards. SP//dr rushed straight down the middle of the alleyway and leapt upwards as another round of bullets rang out. “Where did these mooks come from?” one gangster cried out.

“Who cares? They’re Spider-Men!” his partner hissed in disgust. “Take ‘em out!”

Gwen ripped the man’s gun from his hand with her webbing and stuck it to the top of the wall. She slammed her feet into his gut, causing him to crumple to the ground with a strangled gasp. “Spider-Woman, thank you very much.”

She quickly swung herself back into the air as his partner turned in her direction. SP//dr crawled along the wall and used its long metal arm to snag the villain the by the back of his jacket. He was knocked against the wall and he slumped to the ground, his gun sliding across the cement.

Gwen dropped and perched on top of Peni’s mech. “Well. That was a good workout.”

There was a tingling along the back of her neck that caused her to instinctively go on alert. But the feeling did not intensify and settled as a warm hum. Gwen’s eyes widened and Peni gave a nervous squeak.

At the other end of the alley was Noir. Though his mask and goggles covered his features, fury and disbelief practically radiated from him. “Get over here.”

His voice was a growl and Gwen hastily jumped back to the ground. She had never seen a robot sprint before but SP//dr did a fine job of it. She had half a mind to just open up a portal and return home. But the other half reminded her what a terrible idea that would be. She hurried after Peni, moving to stand beside the mech and eyeing Noir warily.

The private eye took a sweeping glance of their surroundings before moving to inspect the unconscious gangsters. He webbed them up before striding back to the two girls, who remained exactly where he had left them. He gave a curt jerk of his head as he passed them, indicating that they needed to follow.

Peni and Gwen strolled after Noir, exchanging short, hesitant glances every now and then. When they crossed an intersection, the streets got more populated, and crowds of monochromatic people stopped to gape at the red and blue mech.

They came upon a series of two-story buildings clustered together and Noir opened the door to one of them. They filed inside and Peni peered around, realizing that they had entered his office. It was sparsely furnished, with only a desk, a chair and a set of filing cabinets. There was a spot of colour in the small space; the Rubik’s cube sitting near a thick notepad.

The door slammed shut and Peni jumped, nearly smacking her head off SP//dr’s glass dome. Her curiosity immediately evaporated when Noir turned to face them, his fists clenched at his sides.

“What are you gals doin’ here?” he demanded.

“We were just looking,” said Gwen defensively.

“Lookin’?” echoed Noir. “I _told_ you never to come here!”

“We know, but—” began Peni, but Noir cut her off.

“There are no excuses,” said Noir angrily. He stared at SP//dr, at the few bullets that had lodged into the metal body, and his stomach grew cold. “Ya nearly got killed by those Trigger Men.”

“Trigger Men?”

“Hired gunmen. Gunmen that were hired to take me out,” informed Noir bluntly. “But they found you.”

“We took care of it,” said Gwen, crossing her arms over her chest. “In case you didn’t notice.”

Her attitude diminished slightly when Noir moved to stand over her, but she didn’t back down. She turned her face up to glare at him, the lenses of her mask narrowing. “I noticed,” said Noir flatly. “It’s not a matter of bein’ able to take care of yourself. I’ve told ya time and time again that my world is dangerous.”

“It’s no more dangerous than ours,” pointed out Gwen. “You think I haven’t had to deal with guns before?”

“It’s not about that!”

“Then what is it about?” snapped Gwen, her tone rising to match Noir’s. Frustration and annoyance swelled at Noir's stubbornness. “You’re always saying we can’t come here, but from what I’ve seen it’s no different from our worlds! So you got Nazis and gangsters. So do we!”

“These are my problems to deal with,” said Noir shortly. “Not yours.”

“Oh, so you can help us, but we’re not allowed to help you? Just come out and say that you don’t trust us.”

Noir stared down at her for a minute. “I’m mighty tempted to,” he said at last, “considerin’ ya disobeyed my wishes and brought the kid here.”

Tears welled in Peni’s eyes and she hastily climbed out of the mech. She glared at Noir, her arms trembling by her sides. “I’m just ‘the kid’ now?” she whispered. “Just because I wanted to visit the world that you call home?”

“Peni—”

“No! Gwen’s right! It’s not fair. Your world isn’t any more dangerous than ours. You just don’t want us here.” Peni’s voice hitched in her throat and she said with a sob, “And I don’t want to be here with you either! I want to go home.”

Gwen turned a scathing glower at Noir, who stood stoic and unmoving. She removed the remote to her generator from her pocket and opened up a return portal. She, Peni and SP//dr stepped through and disappeared.

Noir stared after them for a moment before moving to throw his desk against the wall, papers and writing utensils scattering against the floor. The Rubik’s cube rolled by his feet and he buried his head in his hands, regret and heartache having a vice-grip on his chest.

…

**_Peni has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Peni has invited Gwen to Private Chat_ **

**Gwen:** How are you doing?

 **Peni:** Sad. Miserable.

 **Peni:** I shouldn’t have asked you to bring me to Noir’s dimension.

 **Gwen:** And I didn’t have to agree. But I did. But try not to worry about it. He’ll get over it.

 **Peni:** I hope so. I don’t like having him mad at me.

 **Gwen:** Do you want to come over?

 **Peni:** Yeah. Can we have ice-cream?

 **Gwen:** Obviously.

…

Gwen and Peni huddled together on Gwen’s bed, sharing a tub of Neapolitan ice-cream. There was nothing but complete misery in Peni’s eyes and Gwen felt a stab of guilt. It had been a week since they stormed off on Noir and they hadn’t heard from the man since. But Gwen wasn’t willing to apologize, at least not yet. As far as she was concerned, they hadn’t done anything wrong. If Noir was willing to come to their dimensions than they should be allowed to go to his.

“He’ll come around,” she assured, for that much she believed.

“When?” asked Peni softly, letting her spoon drop into the tub. She tucked her knees against her chest and rested her head against Gwen’s shoulder. “It’s been forever.”

“It’s been a week. Sometimes people need time to cool down.” Gwen wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Noir’s a grumpy old man. He probably needs extra cool down time.”

A ping sounded from her multidimensional laptop, indicating that someone had posted a message in the group chat. Gwen eased her way off the bed, gently lowering Peni against the pile pillows, which she immediately snuggled into. She wandered over to the laptop and peeked at the screen.

 **Noir:** We need to talk, gals.

“And that’s the end of cool down time,” she said. She took a breath and glanced at Peni. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yes,” said Peni instantly, popping back into a sitting position.

 **Gwen:** Okay. Peni’s with me. I can bring you over in a few.

Gwen shut the lid of her laptop and went over to her closet. She dragged out the square, clunky generator from where it was buried beneath a pile of dirty clothes. She expertly flicked buttons and turned dials, and soon enough a small portal opened in the middle of the bedroom.

Noir stepped through and both girls were surprised to see him without his mask. Even when in the presence of his fellow Spider-People he preferred to wear it. Thick spectacles balanced against his nose, the lenses pure white and obscuring his eyes from their view. His hair was black and there were several thin white scars marking his grey face.

Peni stood but didn’t go to him, apprehension on her features. Noir stared at her, hands hovering awkwardly in front of him. Figuring it would be best to let the two have their moment Gwen eased her way towards her bedroom door.

“I’ll let you have it out,” she said, causing Noir’s head to snap towards her. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

The door clicked shut behind her. Peni studied Noir hesitantly. “Are…are you still mad?”

Noir sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. “No.”

“Oh. Good.” Relief flooded her expression as she moved forwards, wrapping her small arms around his torso. She buried her face against his chest and said softly, “I’m sorry we made you mad.”

Noir’s arms fastened around her, solid and secure. “I know, doll. I’m sorry I yelled.”

“We just wanted to see where you lived.”

“My home is no place for adults, let alone little ones. It’s ugly and violent.”

“My home has its own share of ugliness and violence,” returned Peni. “Is yours really that bad?”

“It is. I wouldn’t tell ya not to visit if I didn’t have a reason for it.” Noir settled a hand against her hair and said lightly, “I’d love to have ya there. All of you. But ya deserve better than my dump, sweetheart.”

Peni lifted her chin slightly to peer up at him. With a small smile, she said, “I like that better than ‘kid’.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt ya.”

“I know. We didn’t mean to hurt you, either. We just really wanted to see you and where you came from. But we won’t do it anymore. Not until you say its okay.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Peni held the embrace for a moment longer before stepping back. She pointed towards the bedroom door and said seriously, “Now go have it out with Gwen.”

“I think we already did,” said Noir in amusement.

“I meant in the good way,” said Peni, sticking out her tongue. “Go!”

“Yes ma’am.”

Noir stepped out into the hall and found Gwen halfway down the stairs. Brow raising, he asked, “It’s takin’ ya a long time to get down these steps.”

Aware she had been busted Gwen made a face. “I knew there was a sense of humour buried under all that mystery.”

“Is your father home?”

“No. He won’t be back for a while.”

“Perfect time for a talk, then.”

He walked downstairs and Gwen followed after him. They reached the living room and Gwen lowered onto the couch. Noir paused in front of her, hands slung into his pockets. “I know ya think I’m bein’ unfair,” he said. “But if ya want to know the reason for it, I’ll tell ya. It’s a gruesome, horrible story and I’d rather not share it with ya.”

Gwen studied him closely. “Because you don’t want to?”

“No.”

“Then I can take it,” she said with steely determination.

Noir took a slow breath. “All right. My uncle was a war pilot, and after the war he became a social activist. Very few people took kindly to the things he was sayin’. The crime boss Goblin was one of them. His Enforcers beat my uncle to paste and then Vulture, part of Goblin’s mob, cannibalized him.”

There was no easy way to deliver such information, so he said it bluntly. Gwen’s face turned white with horror and she opened and closed her mouth, but it took a minute before she found her words.

“I’m sorry,” she said, stricken. “That’s…that’s _awful_.” She flinched. “Obviously it is, I don’t know why I felt the need to say that.”

“Don’t be. You’re right. It is awful.” The grief, as it always did when he thought about the circumstances of Uncle Benjamin’s death, twisted around his heart. But the squeezing was not as unbearable, and he was able to ignore the tightness in his chest. “I killed Vulture, in the end. But that didn’t improve my world in the slightest. Goblin and his Enforcers still run rampant. New gangs crop up every week and kids are kidnapped and forced to work for them. Bodies are discarded in the streets. The fact that you managed to end up in the nicer neighbourhood and encounter only a few low-level thugs is nothin’ short of a miracle.”

He turned to fully face her. “I know you kids can take care of yourselves. But the chances of runnin’ into danger in my dimension are higher than your worlds. I lost my uncle. I’m not going to risk losing you too.”

Trying and failing to smile, Gwen said, “Now I just feel like a complete jerk.”

Noir extended an arm and Gwen reached out, taking his hand. He pulled her into a hug and Gwen gripped the material of his trench coat. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” said Noir softly, affectionately running his fingers through her hair. “I shouldn’t have been so tight-lipped. But I wanted to spare ya as many horrors as possible. I trust ya, doll, and I don’t trust easy.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. It was me being a dumb Grade-A jerk.” Gwen leaned back to give him a chiding look. “But seriously dude, you should have told us sooner. Danger isn’t exactly a good enough reason when we’re all Spider-People.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t tell Peni this.”

It was a statement and not a question. She wasn’t going to pretend she hadn’t been eavesdropping on their conversation when Noir knew full well she had been. Noir gave a shake of his head. “She doesn’t need to know. Not now.”

“Maybe not. But she can handle it. So can Miles. And so can B and Ham. I know you want to protect us. But we want to be there for you, whenever you need it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

That was as good as Gwen was going to get, but she didn’t mind. Quite a bit of progress had been made that day. Giving a smile, she said, “I’ll make sure you are.”

“I believe it.” Noir stepped away and started for the stairs. “Better let Peni know all is well. Come on, jitterbug.”

The endearment caused Gwen to freeze in place, eyes wide with surprise. “Jitterbug?”

Noir paused on the first step, turning to regard Gwen. “Don’t like it?”

“No, I do! But that song came out in 1934. You’re from 1933.”

“Peter played it for me a while ago. It reminded me of ya, but I didn’t think ya were fond of nicknames.”

“I am, so long as they don’t come from Miles.”

“Ah.” Understanding crossed Noir’s face. “Why _does_ he call you Gwanda?”

“It’s a long and stupid story,” said Gwen quickly. “Don’t ask Miles about it, he’ll just lie.”

“Well, why don’t ya tell me this long and stupid story?”

“Maybe another time.”

Gwen skipped past Noir and jogged up the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder and said with a grin, “You know, you and Peter really aren’t helping your ‘I’m not old’ case if you listen to Call of the Jitterbug in your spare time.”

Noir sent her a flat look. “We just got over an argument, jitterbug. Don’t start another one.”

…

 **Peni:** Noir?

 **Noir:** Yes?

 **Peni:** Gwen and I forgot to tell you something very important.

 **Gwen:** We did.

 **Noir:** What?

 **Peni:** I love you.

 **Gwen:** I love you.

 **Noir:** I love you gals too.

 **Peter B:** Geez, someone get me a trash can, I’m gonna throw up from all this mushiness.

 **Gwen:** Peter! Get lost!

 **Peter B:** Where’s my love?

 **Peni:** You ruined the moment. You don’t get any.


	9. Gwen's Name Is

**Miles:** I had to write a story for Introduction to Literature. Want to guess the name of my main character?

 **Gwen:** No. We don’t care.

 **Porker:** I’m going to be disappointed if it isn’t Gwanda.

 **Miles:** I’m glad to say that I haven’t disappointed you.

 **Peter B:** I’d hardly call that creative. More like an overused joke.

 **Gwen:** Thank you, Peter.

 **Miles:** Pfft overused to you maybe. I still think it’s hilarious.

 **Noir:** You have yet to tell me where this nickname came from.

 **Miles:** Gwen was the first Spider-Person to be displaced into my dimension. Her Spidey Sense brought her to my school and she pretended to be a student. She introduced herself as Gwanda. That was the first name that came to her head.

 **Peni:** Why Gwanda?

 **Gwen:** I don’t know, okay? I messed up and started to say Gwen before I caught myself. I had to turn the Gwuh into something.

 **Peter B:** Why did you lie about your name to begin with?

 **Gwen:** I didn’t know if he had a Gwen in his universe or not.

 **Porker:** What, more than one person can’t share a name?

 **Gwen:** Look, it was logical in the moment, okay?

 **Noir:** I don’t know why you’re embarrassed by this story. Nothing wrong with Gwanda.

 **Gwen:** With all due respect to all the Gwandas out there, it’s not a nickname I prefer.

 **Peni:** Well, what would you like your nickname to be? We could brainstorm!

 **Noir:** And Miles can use that name in his next story.

 **Miles:** Doubtful. Nothing beats Gwanda.

 **Gwen:** You only use it because you know it bugs me.

 **Miles:** Duh.

 **Peter B:** Good man.

 **Porker:** I’ve got one. Jack.

 **Noir:** Jack?

 **Gwen:** …is that a crack about my tooth gap?

 **Porker:** Yes.

 **Gwen:** I’ll give you points for it. No one’s ever used that one to make fun of me.

 **Porker:** Who made fun of you and where can I find them to knock their heads in?

 **Gwen:** The list is long and I’ve forgotten most names. It didn’t bother me. But don’t start calling me Jack.

 **Porker:** Noted. Sorry if I hit a sore spot.

 **Gwen:** You didn’t, so don’t worry about it.

 **Noir:** I think I’ll stick with jitterbug.

 **Peni:** That’s the best one.

 **Peter B:** Yeah, but that’s Noir’s name for her.

 **Miles:** It’s not as special if jitterbug comes from us.

 **Peter B:** How about punk?

 **Gwen:** Flattering.

 **Gwen:** You guys already call me by the same nickname. Every day.

 **Miles:** …what?

 **Peni:** Gwen isn’t your real name?

 **Gwen:** Nope. It’s short for my full name.

 **Porker:** Shut the front door.

 **Miles:** WHAT IS IT

 **Gwen:** Nope. It’s up to you to guess.

 **Peni:** Aw! Not fair!

 **Miles:** Does anyone have a Gwen Stacy in their universe?!

 **Peter B:** Yup.

 **Miles:** What’s her real name?

 **Peter B:** Like I’d tell you.

 **Gwen:** And here I thought you’d make this easy for him.

 **Peter B:** You know me better than that.

 **Miles:** Uh, you suck.

 **Peni:** Gwenyth?

 **Gwen:** Nope.

 **Miles:** Gwenda

 **Gwen:** Nope.

 **Miles:** Guinevere

 **Gwen:** Negative.

 **Peni:** Gweniver

 **Gwen:** Big no.

 **Peni:** That’s all I got.

 **Miles:** Noir, don’t you have any guesses?

 **Noir:** Already know it, kiddo. I’ve got a Gwen Stacy in my universe. Helped her with a case once.

 **Gwen:** Is she anything like me?

 **Noir:** Don’t know her too well, so I can’t say.

 **Miles:** Tell us!

 **Noir:** I don’t think that’s part of the game.

 **Miles:** Ugh

 **Miles:** Gwenni

 **Miles:** Gwenette

 **Miles:** Gwennetta

 **Miles:** Gwenita

 **Gwen:** Are you just picking random names you found on the Internet?

 **Miles:** Yes

 **Miles:** Are any of them right?

 **Gwen:** Nope.

 **Peni:** How many names are there that you can derive Gwen from?

 **Miles:** A lot more than I thought.

 **Miles:** Porker why aren’t you helping?

 **Porker:** It’s far more entertaining to watch.

 **Miles:** Thanks for the assistance.

 **Miles:** Is it Gwendaline?

 **Gwen:** No, but you’re closer

 **Miles:** Wait

 **Miles:** Gwendolyne?

 **Gwen:** Yup!

 **Gwen:** That took you way longer than I expected.

 **Peter B:** Give him a break, the kid’s oblivious.

 **Miles:** I am not.

 **Miles:** Does anybody call you Gwendolyne?

 **Gwen:** Only when I’m in trouble.

 **Miles:** You realize Gwendolyn means white-browed?

 **Gwen:** It also means fair and blessed, thank you very much.

 **Miles:** I’ve got your new nickname.

 **Miles:** White-Brow.

 **Peni:** Very literal.

 **Porker:** Perfect.

 **Porker:** How’s school going, White-Brow?

 **Peni:** Your eyebrows look amazing, White-Brow!

 **Miles:** Hey, White-Brow, can I copy your homework?

 **Peter B:** Is this the outcome you wanted, White-Brow?

 **Noir:** Come now. Let’s not tease White-Brow too much.

 **Gwen:** 1) I can’t tell you people anything.

 **Gwen:** 2) You all suck.

 **Gwen:** 3) This backfired horribly.

 **Gwen:** 4) I’d rather you go back to calling me Gwanda.


	10. A PMT for YOU

**Peni:** It’s finally finished!

 **Porker:** The pizza? Good. Gwen, send it over.

 **Peni:** It’s way better than pizza.

 **Porker:** Spaghetti?

 **Gwen:** I have a feeling it’s not food, Ham.

 **Noir:** What’d you build this time, sweetheart?

 **Peni:** I’d rather show it to you in person. Gwen, can you get the others?

 **Gwen:** Sure.

 **Gwen:** Everyone available?

 **Peter B:** Yeah. We can meet at my apartment. You’ll just have to deal with the mess.

 **Porker:** We always deal with the mess.

 **Miles:** You could actually see the floor last time.

 **Gwen:** All right. We’ll be at your place in a few minutes, B.

 **Peni:** Don’t worry about picking me up. I’ll meet you there!

**_Peni has logged off_ **

**Gwen:** Wait, what?

 **Miles:** How…how is she going to meet us? She’s in another dimension.

 **Noir:** I suspect it has something to do with what she just finished.

 **Gwen:** I think I’m about to be outdone.

…

Crossing dimensions was tricky business, and that perhaps was an understatement. But somehow Kingpin’s head scientist had figured it out, although she hadn’t bothered to find a way to properly stabilize her method.

Creating a laptop to communicate across six dimensions had been Peni’s first test. If she could crack the code of multidimensional electronic communication, then she could use some of that data to assist her in further studies. Gwen figuring out how to build the generator had been extremely helpful. She’d handed Peni her notes, which were basically copies of the information they’d all read on Olivia Octavius’ computer. Armed with that information, Gwen managed to find a way to make it work on a smaller scale.

That sealed Peni’s determination. If Gwen could make a multidimensional transporter with the technology that was available to her, then it was more than probable for Peni to make a more advanced and compact version.

It took a few months but she achieved her goal.

Strapped around her wrist was a blue metal band with a flat black screen. The design was similar to a smart watch. Hoisting her backpack over her shoulder, Peni tapped the button on the left side of the screen. It immediately glowed to life, white letters detailing the six pre-programmed destinations.

With a wide grin, she selected Earth-TRN701, Peter B’s dimension, and then pressed his apartment addressed. She vanished within a second.

The reactions she received upon arrival were priceless.

Miles, who had been seated next to Gwen on Peter's mattress, shouted and jumped to his feet. Noir immediately got into a fighting stance at her abrupt arrival, but relaxed once he realized it was only her. Peter and Ham swore, getting a reproving glare from Noir.

“Language, fellas.”

“Ta-da!” said Peni, striking a pose.

“How’d you do that?” demanded Peter, placing a hand over his pounding heart. “And don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“No promises,” said Peni cheekily. “Lady, gentlemen and gentlepig, I present to you Peni’s Multidimensional Transporter—or PMT for short.”

Her friends huddled around her, staring at the device around her wrist in awe. “Yeah,” said Gwen with small smile and a shake of her head. “I’ve definitely been outdone.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” insisted Peni. “Your notes were super helpful.”

"Is this the super secret project you've been working on for the last couple of months?"

"Yup!"

“How does it work?” asked Miles, a wide grin on his features. “And you made one for me, right?”

“Of course I did.”

Peni eased her backpack off her shoulders and reached inside. She removed a metal box and unlatched the lid. Inside were five PMTs of different colours. She handed them out—black for Miles, red for Peter, pink for Ham, white for Noir and purple for Gwen.

“There are six dimensions programmed into your PMT,” she explained. Using hers as a demonstration, she pressed the button and the screen flared to life. “Only you can activate your transporters. Your DNA is programmed into it.”

Peter’s brow flew upwards. “I don’t recall you asking for a sample for my DNA.”

“It’s not my fault a piece of your hair attached itself to my clothes,” said Peni innocently.

“Yeah right. I knew my hairbrush wasn’t where I had left it.”

“Explains what happened to that taco I was eating,” said Ham dryly.

Gwen fastened the band to her wrist and pressed the button. She grinned when the dimensions appeared on the screen. “No way. All I have to do is tap the one I want to go to?”

“Yup! There are some destinations listed under each dimension. For example, I already have the coordinates for Peter’s apartment set. If there’s a place that isn’t preprogrammed, you simply use the search feature to look for it. The transporter will let you know if you’re able to transport to that specific location or not. You’re transported instantly. No need for portals.”

“A definite upgrade.”

“This is amazing!” said Miles excitedly.

“Is it safe?” asked Noir, eyeing his transporter with some trepidation. Crossing through a portal was one thing, but having a such a small device transport his body to another dimension gave him a degree of hesitation.

Peni crossed her fingers over her heart. “Absolutely. I used several robot test dummies to make sure. I included a time limit, so if you want to be in a dimension for only ten minutes, it’ll whisk you back to your home dimension after ten minutes is up. I used that option for my test dummies. The first few dummies came back not in one piece. But the last dozen that I tried came back with zero problems. So we’re all set!”

“How do we set a time limit?” asked Noir curiously.

Peni skipped to his side and tapped the square symbol at the bottom of the screen. “The location screen is the default screen,” she explained. “It’s the first screen that always pops up when you turn it on. But this is the full menu. See, at the top is the time. If you hit this clock symbol, you’ll be able to set the time limit for the dimension you want to go to. If you tap this list icon, it will bring you back to the selection of dimensions. There’s a built-in tracker, and you can monitor our locations through this button. The red button on the right side is a distress button. It’ll send a signal to all PMTs indicating your location.”

“Someone could have used that a while ago,” said Peter, nudging Miles’ shoulder.

Miles nudged him back. “Hey, I managed to get a hold of you, didn’t I? But this will be way easier.”

“Finally, there’s an automatic alert that will happen if your atoms are starting to degrade due to prolonged exposure. Oh, and the PMT monitors your vitals, so if you get seriously injured a distress alert will be sent out regardless of whether or not you press the button.”

“Anything else?” asked Ham in amusement.

Peni did a quick mental check. “Nope! That’s everything.”

Peter reached out and ruffled her hair. “You’re real impressive, kiddo.”

“You’re a clever cat, doll,” agreed Noir, squeezing her shoulder.

“Oh! Before I forget, I made this for you.” Peni removed several pieces of paper from her backpack and passed them around. “It’s a reference sheet for the PMT. In case you need help figuring it out how it works.”

“That’s mostly for your benefit,” said Peter, glancing at Noir with a smirk as he collected his sheet.

“Now Gwen won’t have a monopoly on multidimensional travel and we’ll be able to barge in on her,” said Ham.

Gwen made a face. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Actually,” said Peter with a raised brow, “now that we all have free access to multidimensional travel, I think it’s time to lay down some ground rules.”

“I’m good!” said Miles with a mischievous grin. With quick fingers he pressed his button and vanished back to his home dimension.

“Rules are for fools,” said Gwen cheekily, following Miles’ lead.

“Later!” chirped Peni.

The three teens were gone in a second, leaving the older Spider-People to stare at the spots they vacated. As Ham let out a snort of laughter, Peter crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

“Teenagers.”

…

 **Peter B:** Ground rules, people.

 **Miles:** Aw man.

 **Miles:** Peni quick come and take the laptops.

 **Peni:** But then we wouldn’t have a way to communicate with one another!

 **Gwen:** Isn’t that what the transporters are for?

 **Peni:** For in-person communication. But there’s no chat function.

 **Miles:** Why not?

 **Peni:** Because that’s what the laptops are for.

 **Porker:** Duh, Miles.

 **Noir:** I’ll lay down the first rule.

 **Gwen:** Wait!

 **Peni:** Before you lay down the rule, can’t we compromise?

 **Peter B:** Kid has a point. I think it’s time you relax a bit, Noir. I get why you don’t want us in your dimension. But we want to be there, at least once in a while.

 **Noir:** Hmm.

 **Noir:** All right. Here’s how it’ll go. If you want to come visit, you got to let me know ahead of time. I’m talking a few days of notice. And if I suddenly tell you the visit will have to be rescheduled; you listen. There’ll be a good reason for it. No stopping by unannounced. Got it?

 **Peni:** Yes!

 **Gwen:** Deal!

 **Miles:** Woo!

 **Porker:** I don’t know if this can be considered loosening up, but it’s close enough.

 **Peter B:** Sounds good.

 **Peter B:** The advance notice applies to every dimension. If you want to visit me, that’s cool. But don’t suddenly appear on my doorstep. I don’t need days of notice, but like fifteen minutes would be nice.

 **Miles:** How are we supposed to surprise you?

 **Peter B:** You aren’t. Which is the point.

 **Porker:** Yeah, the last thing I need is you people busting in on me when I’m in the shower.

 **Gwen:** That’s not something I need to see, so advance notice is more than fair.

 **Peter B:** Next rule; no using the transporter to skip school.

 **Miles:** Well there go my plans.

 **Gwen:** Buzzkill.

 **Noir:** You kids don’t need to be missing school to hop between dimensions.

 **Peter B:** I wasn’t exactly known for perfect attendance but your goal is not to be me.

 **Miles:** Why not? I think you’re pretty cool.

 **Peter B:** Of course I am. But I could have been more responsible with how I balanced my Spider-Man life with my schooling career. You three are going to be better.

 **Gwen:** I don’t think it’ll be too hard to be more responsible than you.

 **Peni:** You won’t have to worry about me.

 **Miles:** Eh. You should probably worry a bit about me.

 **Peter B:** Miles.

 **Miles:** Fine.

 **Noir:** Remember kiddo, we have the tracker to check in on you once in a while.

 **Gwen:** Thanks for that, Peni.

 **Peni:** Well, I guess I should mention you can turn it off. You can do it through the tracking menu.

 **Gwen:** I offer a more sincere thank you.

 **Porker:** You should leave it on. Now I have a more efficient way of stalking you.

 **Gwen:** Yeah, because a cartoon pig in my dimension is totally inconspicuous.

 **Peter B:** I don’t have any more rules to impose at the moment. But if I think of any more, I’ll be sure to let you know.

 **Noir:** Any questions?

 **Miles:** I’m solid.

 **Gwen:** I’m good.

 **Peni:** Nope!

 **Peter B:** These transporters are really amazing, Peni. Thanks for your hard work. You too, Gwen, for figuring out how to utilize Octavius’ information in the first place.

 **Gwen:** No prob.

 **Peni:** My pleasure! It was fun!

 **Gwen:** I guess I should probably do something with the generator now that it’s obsolete. Can’t exactly leave it to gather dust in my closet.

 **Peni:** I can come pick it up, if you want. I’ll dismantle it.

 **Noir:** You want help, sweetheart?

 **Peni:** Sure! If anyone else wants to help, you can meet me in my dimension.

 **Gwen:** I think I’ll use the generator one last time before it gets gutted.

 **Miles:** I’ve always wanted to see the inside of that thing.

 **Porker:** I’ll supervise.

 **Noir:** See you fellas in a bit.

 **Peter B:** I have a feeling these PMTs are going to make things a bit more interesting.

 **Gwen:** Like they weren’t already interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now they can all hop dimensions whenever they feel like it. Will this power get abused?  
> Maybe.


	11. A Date?

**Noir:** I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel on you fellas tonight.

 **Peni:** Aw! Boo! How come?

 **Noir:** I’ve got an engagement.

 **Gwen:** Ooh. With who?

 **Noir:** Just a broad.

 **Porker:** Very flattering. You must get all the ladies.

 **Miles:** Geez. He gets to spend Friday night with a girl and I’m stuck with the rest of you.

 **Gwen:** Excuse me, I’m a girl.

 **Miles:** You don’t count.

 **Noir:** I have to scram if I’m going to meet her on time. Have a good night, fellas.

**_Noir has logged off_ **

…

**_Peni has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Peni invited Gwen, Miles, Peter B and Porker to Private Chat_ **

**Porker:** Are we shunning Noir now?

 **Peni:** He has a date!

 **Miles:** That’s too weird to contemplate.

 **Peter B:** He’s plenty old enough to be dating, buddy.

 **Miles:** I know, but it’s just weird. It’s Noir. He’s a got the whole lone wolf thing going on.

 **Gwen:** Well, he did up until we ruined it.

 **Peni:** We should go take a peek.

 **Porker:** You mean spy?

 **Gwen:** Remember the last time we ‘took a peek’? It didn’t go well.

 **Peni:** This time we’ll make sure we’re out of sight. And that we blend in.

 **Peter B:** Nuh-uh. We’ve had these transporters for barely a week. At least wait a month before you even contemplate breaking the rules.

 **Miles:** Why did you bother to impose rules if you know we’re just going to break them?

 **Peter B:** So that I can impose consequences when said rules, which we all agreed upon, are broken.

 **Miles:** I don’t like when you go all Responsible on us. It doesn’t suit you.

 **Peter B:** It happens less than it should, so you shouldn’t be complaining.

 **Porker:** You’re not even a little curious if Noir’s got himself a girl or not?

 **Peter B:** I’m sure she’s just a client. If she was his date, he’d talk about her with a bit more enthusiasm.

 **Peni:** Or not. Noir doesn’t express enthusiasm well.

 **Peter B:** Fair point.

 **Peter B:** But it doesn’t matter, because I don’t care. If this girl happens to be important, he’ll tell us eventually. Leave the guy be.

**_Peter B has logged off_ **

**Porker:** Now he has plausible deniability.

 **Peni:** We did promise not to go to his dimension anymore without his permission…

 **Gwen:** We kind of did, didn’t we?

 **Miles:** Ham and I didn’t.

 **Porker:** I’m down.

 **Peni:** You’ll report back to us?

 **Miles:** Sure. We’ll be like, ten minutes, tops. He won’t even see us.

 **Porker:** His tracker pinpoints him at some café in town. We can hunker down on the roof on one of the buildings across the street.

 **Miles:** Sweet. Try to cover yourself in any black and white clothing that you own. It’ll help us blend in.

 **Porker:** I’m pink.

 **Miles:** That’s why I said cover yourself. And don’t forget to turn off your tracker. That’s a dead giveaway.

 **Gwen:** If Noir busts you, we had nothing to do with this.

 **Porker:** Are you crazy? You’re the first one we’re throwing under the bus.

…

Situated on the roof of a two-story building across the street from the café Miles and Ham got a clear view of Noir. He was sitting at a table right in front of the windows overlooking the street. A thin, wavy-haired woman sat across from him. They seemed to be deep in conversation.

“I think Peter is right,” muttered Miles. He played with the strings of his white hoodie, staring down at the café window with a bored expression. “This isn’t a date.”

“For obvious reasons?” asked Ham with a smirk. He wore a black turtleneck and a white cap, leaving only a narrow strip of pink around his eyes exposed. “Like Noir having zero interest in romantic escapades?”

“He could,” returned Miles. “But not this girl. All they’re doing is drinking coffee.”

“Maybe he’s a cheap date. This is the Great Depression, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. Did your world have a Great Depression?”

“Sure. Except we call it the Grande Depression.”

“Seriously?”

“No, that’d be stupid.”

They continued observing. After a few more minutes the woman broke into tears, hunching her back and burying her head in her hands. Noir sat stoically for a minute before reaching out and patting her shoulder awkwardly. Miles gave a dismayed shake of his head. “He’s terrible at this.”

“Like you’re any better, Hey Guy.”

“ _Stop._ ” Miles elbowed Ham sharply, and the pig retaliated by pulling teasingly on his hair. “I wish Gwen had never told that story.”

“I can teach you some skills.”

“Ham, I love you, but I am not learning pick-up techniques from a pig.”

“Hmph. Your loss.”

When the woman seemed to regain composure, she slid a piece of paper across the table. She stood and walked out of the café, striding briskly down the street. Noir reviewed the paper for a moment before also leaving. When he stepped outside, his head began to turn in the direction of where Miles and Ham were perched.

Immediately flattening himself to the roof, Miles frantically jabbed at the screen of his PMT. A second later he appeared in his dorm room with Ham right on his tail. Ganke twisted around in his chair, eyebrow quirked in bemusement. He offered a nod to both of them before spinning back around and typing away at his laptop.

“Do you think he noticed us?”

“Why are you whispering?” asked Porker. “He’s not anywhere—”

“Fellas.”

“Gah!” screamed Miles, falling backwards onto the bottom bunk.

Yanking off his headphones, Ganke swivelled his head between the Spider-People before saying, “I, uh, think I’m going to go to the library.”

He hastily collected his computer and backpack and hurried out of the room. Noir regarded Ham and Miles, who stared at him with wide eyes. “Nice getup,” he drawled. “Matches mine.”

“Hi,” said Miles, sitting up and offering a too-wide smile. “I thought you were too busy to hang out with us.”

“Thought I would be. Meeting ran short. But I gather ya already knew that.”

“It was Gwen’s fault,” accused Ham. “She and Peni thought you were on a date and wanted intel.”

“A date?” asked Noir, mystified. “I never said it was a date. The broad is just a client. Some joes have been harassin’ her and she needs me to scare them off.”

“Good to know,” said Miles. Shrinking back slightly, he asked warily, “Is this the part where you yell at us and then we don’t talk for a week?”

“Do I have a vote?” piped up Ham.

“I’d rather skip that jazz and not go through it again,” said Noir dryly. “But it would be nice if ya listened to me once in a while.”

“Sorry,” muttered Miles, carting his fingers through his hair. “We were just curious.”

“He was curious. I was supervising. But for the record, I’m sorry too.” Yanking off his cap and tugging down his shirt collar, Ham gave a sheepish grin. “It’s the journalist in me. I had to investigate.”

“Next time, just ask,” said Noir with slight exasperation. “I woulda told ya if it was a date. I don’t even think I should allow ya to come to my dimension anymore. I lay down the rules and ya break them practically the next second.”

“No! We’re sorry!” said Miles quickly. He fell to his knees in a dramatic fashion and latched onto Noir’s legs. “Don’t exile us!”

“Actually, I think the punishment would be getting exiled to his dimension,” said Ham.

Miles shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”

He gave a soft yelp as Nori’s knuckles rapped sharply against the top of his head. Noir pulled Miles to his feet, bringing him in for a quick hug. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you fellas.”

“Well, you can keep us around until you figure it out,” said Ham cheerfully, hopping up onto Noir’s shoulder. He grunted when he also received a mild, reprimanding smack to the back of his head. “Ow.”

“This is your free pass,” said Noir warningly. “There ain’t another one.”

“Got it,” said Miles.

Ham flashed a thumbs-up, his thumb suddenly doubling in size. “Gotcha.”

“How did you even know we were there?” asked Miles curiously.

Noir tapped the back of his neck. “You weren’t far enough away, fellas.”

“Dang,” muttered Miles.

“An embarrassing oversight,” said Ham, making a face. “Some investigative reporter I am.”

…

 **Noir:** Dolls.

 **Peni:** Yeeees?

 **Gwen:** Doll isn’t here right now.

 **Noir:** While I appreciate you kept your promise you did convince Miles and Ham to come to my dimension without my knowledge.

 **Gwen:** Nothing gets by you, huh?

 **Peni:** Sorry…we were just curious.

 **Noir:** Like I told Ham and Miles, just ask me. I won’t bite.

 **Gwen:** No, but you will bark if you get ticked off.

 **Noir:** Very funny.

 **Peni:** Are you mad at them?

 **Noir:** I’ve done the angry act before with you girls. Didn’t like how I felt or how I made you feel. I want you to visit me in my home, but when I’m fully aware of your arrival. I don’t want my rule broken again. The four of you used up your one free pass.

 **Gwen:** Ominous.

 **Gwen:** But we will. Sorry. We shouldn’t have encouraged them.

 **Peni:** We’ll be open with you.

 **Gwen:** But no further promises, because it turns out we’re troublemakers and it’s harder than I thought. Apparently, I have little self-control. But I’ll try really hard to respect your wishes.

 **Noir:** I’ll try not to get angry if you happen to disobey, but even if I do, nothing will change how important you are to me.

 **Peni:** Awww!

 **Porker:** The love. It’s real. And it’s beautiful.

 **Miles:** I’m glad you’re not mad. That wasn’t our intention. Actually, I guess we didn’t have an honest intention. We shouldn’t have invaded your privacy.

 **Noir:** You’re forgiven. I suppose it’s only fair, considering the amount time I track your position using the PMT.

 **Peter B:** Since I am the only one who hasn’t arrived unannounced in your dimension, am I now your favourite?


	12. Hard Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My recent freedom from school has given me more motivation to write and update, which is always fun. I'm going to be busy for the next couple of weeks, but I'll try to write when I can.
> 
> It's not exactly stated how old Gwen's Peter was when he died, so I took a creative liberty.

**Miles:** My mom made empanadas and I asked her to make extra for my friends. Who wants some?

 **Porker:** What kind of filling?

 **Miles:** Ground beef.

 **Porker:** Just give all of them to me. The others don’t like empanadas.

 **Noir:** What’s an empanada?

 **Miles:** It’s a fried meat-filled turnover, basically. You can bake them too, if you want. They’re really good.

 **Porker:** No I don’t think he’ll like them.

 **Noir:** I’ll decide that for myself.

 **Peni:** I’d love some!

 **Peter B:** Did you happen to mention to your mother that your friends are Spider-People from different dimensions?

 **Miles:** Obviously not.

 **Porker:** I think Peter could stand to lose a few pounds so I’ll take his empanadas.

 **Peter B:** Don’t be such a food hog, Ham.

 **Porker:** I hate to be the guy who is a walking stereotype, but I am a pig. I like food. I want all the food.

 **Peni:** So does Peter but he still shares.

 **Peter B:** Are you calling me a pig?

 **Peni:** No! I’m just saying you like food!

 **Miles:** Nice save.

 **Peni:** It’s not a save! Stop trying to get me in trouble.

 **Peter B:** Relax, squirt. I was joking.

 **Noir:** Want us to come to you, Miles?

 **Miles:** Sure. I’ll be at my dorm in about a half hour.

 **Peter B: @Gwen** are you getting all this? If not, you’re going to miss out on empanadas.

 **Noir:** If you’re busy I’ll make sure one gets saved for you, doll.

 **Gwen:** No, it’s okay. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it today. You guys dig in. Have fun.

**_Gwen has logged off_ **

**Porker:** That was…quick.

 **Peni:** I guess she's busy.

 **Peter B:** I call her share.

 **Noir:** B.

 **Peter B:** What?

…

**_Peni has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Peni invited Gwen to Private Chat_ **

**Peni:** Hi! I just wanted to check in with you. You didn’t come to hang out with us yesterday and you haven’t really been in the group chat. Is everything okay?

 **Gwen:** Fine. Just busy with school and band and stuff.

…

**_Peter B has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Peter B invited Gwen to Private Chat_ **

**Peter B:** Hey, is there anything you want to talk about? You’ve been really quiet the past couple of days. Didn’t even jump in to make a fat joke when the opportunity presented itself.

 **Gwen:** Fine. Just busy with school and band and stuff.

…

**_Miles has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Miles invited Gwen to Private Chat_ **

**Miles:** So…are you still busy with school and stuff?

 **Gwen:** Yes. No time to talk.

…

Grief and guilt were a deadly combination.

They settled in her gut like a stone, making it hard to eat and sleep. Gwen didn’t have much motivation to move. She’d stay under her covers in the darkness of her bedroom for hours if she knew her father wouldn’t worry and if New York didn’t need Spider-Woman.

It was late in the afternoon and she was buried beneath her blankets. The curtains were drawn over her window, preventing any light from leaking into her space. She hugged her pillow to her chest, the sickness of grief and despair clogging her throat. On her dresser sat a red-framed picture, of her and her dimension’s Peter Parker. It was their freshman year of high school and they were standing outside of their new school, wide grins on their faces for the opportunities ahead of them.

Peter didn’t get a chance to experience any of them. He was dead just under a year later.

Gwen swallowed back a sob and buried her face against her pillow. It was the first anniversary of her best friend’s death. She was halfway through her sophomore year and instead of Peter being by her side as he had been since elementary school, he was six feet in the ground. He had died at the age of fourteen, not even making it past freshman year. The bullies had gotten to be too much for him and in an attempt at revenge he inadvertently took his own life.

It was her fault, really. She hadn’t stood up for him enough. She hadn’t comforted him well enough. He thought taking a formula of his own invention would give him the strength to fight Flash Thompson and his croons. Instead it mutated him, and Gwen hadn’t realized the Lizard was her best friend until the effects wore off and he was motionless on the ground.

Tears leaked from her eyes, trailing over the tear tracks that had already dried from the crying she had done over the past two days. She buried her head into her pillow and took shaky breaths, trying to calm down.

“Hey.”

The shock of hearing a voice in her bedroom caused her to jerk upwards. Her head swivelled around and wide, wet eyes stared at the cartoon pig perched on her vanity stool. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Her voice was scratchy and dry from continuous crying and she tried clearing her throat.

“Doing a wellness check. And you’re not looking so well,” replied Ham. He studied Gwen with sympathy and concern. “Today is the day, isn’t it?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” muttered Gwen. “The first anniversary, actually. Thought I’d gotten all my grief out when it first happened.”

“It’s like we always say. The grief doesn’t go away. It just starts to hurt less.”

“You don’t have to be here.” Gwen bundled herself back under the covers, hiding her face with her pillow. “I’d prefer to be alone.”

The pillow was peeled from her grip and Ham tossed it beside her head. “I know. But you’re not going to be.”

He began to stroke her hair, the soothing motion providing comfort and yet causing the tears to return with force. “How’d you know?” she asked. “That today was the day Peter died?”

“A feeling,” said Ham. “You aren’t usually this quiet, and you gave the exact same response to B and Peni when they messaged you.” When she shot him a surprised glance, he said, “I investigated. What can I say, it’s in my blood.”

“Do the others know?”

“Maybe. I figured I’d come see you before I’d extend the invitation to the others. But I know they’d want to be here with you right now.”

“I’m not really up to being a host.”

“You don’t need to host.”

Gwen bit down on her bottom lip in uncertainty. After a moment of thought she said quietly, “They can come. If they want.”

“Would it be better or worse if Peter came?” asked Ham carefully.

“He can come.”

“All right, kiddo. Give me one sec.”

Ham went over to Gwen’s laptop and typed out a quick message. Within the next five minutes her friends appeared in her bedroom. Peni and Miles immediately rushed to her, with Miles settling on the mattress to her right and Peni to her left.

“It’s okay,” said Peni firmly, looping her arm around Gwen’s. “We’re here.”

Miles tucked his chin against her shoulder. Peter moved to lay behind Miles and reached a hand to rest against her neck. Noir eased behind Peni, wrapping an arm comfortingly around her back. Ham snuggled in the space above Gwen’s head and continued to stroke her hair.

Their warmth tightened around her, secured her and protected her. She felt safe, and she felt love swell in her chest and heart with a vengeance, even as the grief tried to close her off. It was a love she hadn’t felt since Peter died and she started to sob, tears spilling down her cheeks and her shoulders shaking violently.

Their grip only increased. They held her as she cried, offering soothing pats and backrubs and hand holding. After a moment of intense crying, she managed to choke out, “It’s all my fault.”

“No,” said Noir sharply, “it isn’t, jitterbug.”

“I wasn’t there for him. I didn’t know how bad he was being bullied. I didn’t help him.”

“You helped him by being his friend,” said Peter. “If he was anything like me, he would have found a way to take that formula, even if you had found out about it.”

“I killed him.”

It was her darkest fear and her greatest regret. She had fought him, hard and ruthlessly. She only stopped when the monster started to transform and the body that appeared, to her horror, was the scaly, cold corpse of her Peter Parker.

Ham hopped onto her chest and lifted her chin up so she was staring straight into his eyes. “You didn’t,” he said fiercely. “As tragic as it is, he did it to himself. It was the chemicals that killed him, not you. You did what you needed to do. You did all you could for him. In the end, he chose a different route. It sucks and it’s hard, but it was and never will be your fault. Do you hear me?”

She was startled by his intensity and found she could only nod. Peter B gently squeezed the back of her neck and prodded, “Say that it’s not your fault.”

“It’s not my fault,” she said shakily, and a very tiny part of her agreed. “But it still feels like it.”

“That’s our curse, isn’t it?” said Peter with a wry smile.

“We get these powers and we use them to help people. But when we can’t even save the ones we love, it really sucks,” muttered Miles.

“We do our best and we do what we can,” said Peni with a sad shrug.

“In the end, that’s all we can do. But it’s easy to forget that,” said Noir softly.

“Life is hard,” said Gwen miserably, sinking back into her pillows. The tears had slowed and she scrubbed the wetness from her cheeks. “But it’s also worth living. Is that weird?”

“Yeah, but so is life. It did give us spider powers and all,” returned Peter.

“I tried really hard not to attach myself to anyone after that,” Gwen muttered. “It worked. But then I met you guys. I didn’t know it was possible to love so quickly and so intensely. It scares me sometimes.”

“Scares me too, kiddo,” said Ham feelingly. “Never really felt this way before about anyone.”

“It scares all of us,” said Peter. “But even if it brings me pain, it’s more than worth it, to have you in my life.”

“Of course it brings you pain,” said Ham cheekily. “They’re nothing but pains in the butt.”

“Rude,” huffed Gwen, raising her leg and lightly kneeing Ham in the back. “You are so much more annoying.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Peni. “We’re just adorable.”

“Can’t argue with that,” remarked Noir fondly.

“Adorable gremlins are more like it,” said Peter with a snort.

“Still adorable,” said Miles with a wide grin.

The weight in her chest lifted and Gwen felt herself able to breathe without struggle. She wished her Peter Parker was alive, to meet the crazy characters that she loved deeply and completely. Perhaps she would always hold regret that she couldn’t save him. But she would try not to let it hold her down and consume her. She had a decade of memories with her Peter Parker, and she would treasure them forever.

Gwen readjusted her left arm, using it to wrap Ham in a hug and she huddled closer to Peni. Exhaustion seeped into her bones and Gwen closed her eyes. “I’m tired.”

“Then sleep. We’ll stay with you until your father comes home,” said Peter, ruffling her hair.

“Are there any empanadas left?”

“I can get you more,” promised Miles. “As many as you want. Without making my mom suspicious.”

“I want six. Ham and cheese, if you please.”

“You got it.”

“Excuse me?” said Ham, affronted. “I’m right here.”

“Exactly,” said Gwen with a yawn. “That means you won’t eat them.” She let out a startled giggle when he jabbed at her side.

“Smart aleck,” said Ham in amusement. “You’re definitely feeling better.”

“A bit. Thank you.” She offered a small, sincere smile. “This really means a lot.”

“We’ve said this a thousand times but I’m going to repeat it just because we’re a stubborn lot,” said Peter. “You know you can talk to us at any time?”

“I know.”

“And you can share your food with us, especially me, at any time.”

“You wish.”

…

**_Gwen has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Gwen invited Porker to Private Chat_ **

**Porker:** Who do we need to kill and do you have a body disposing plan ready?

 **Gwen:** What? No!

 **Porker:** No one ever uses these private chats for anything cool.

 **Gwen:** That’s not cool, that’s highly illegal and immoral.

 **Porker:** Eh. So what’s up?

 **Gwen:** I never really got to say thanks for coming to check on me. I appreciate it.

 **Porker:** Of course. I’m just glad you’re feeling better, rockstar.

 **Porker:** Wait

 **Gwen:** Rockstar, huh?

 **Porker:** It just came out; I didn’t even think about it. I think I was possessed by a spirit.

 **Gwen:** You gave me a nickname. Does this mean you’re my Spider-Dad?

 **Porker:** No, because Noir gave you a nickname and he’s not your Spider-Dad.

 **Gwen:** I mean he’s not my main Spider-Dad. That’d be you. Not just because you’re the only one left, of course.

 **Gwen:** You did come by yourself to check on me and make sure I was safe. That’s a pretty Spider-Dad thing to do.

 **Porker:** I’m not ready for this kind of responsibility.

 **Porker:** I’ve only got a one-bedroom apartment. You’re going to have to forget about college because I cannot pay for that on my salary, are you kidding me? You can work in a pizza place and get me free food.

 **Gwen:** Oh my gosh I’m leaving I’m in study hall and you’re making me laugh. I’m gonna get in trouble.

 **Porker:** Does this mean I get to claim the Child Tax Credit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a Spider-Dad


	13. Pillow Fort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be incapable of writing a Peter B chapter without Miles.

**Miles:** It’s way past your bedtime.

 **Peter B:** I’m an adult. We don’t have bedtimes.

 **Miles:** That must be why most adults look like zombies before their first coffee.

 **Peter B:** Unfortunately, when you become an adult you don’t gain an immediate sense of responsibility.

 **Miles:** I noticed. Have you seen our politicians?

 **Peter B:** You’re too young to talk about politics. I don’t even talk about politics.

 **Miles:** Hey you’re never too young to be aware.

 **Peter B:** Geez. Never mind what I said about responsibility. You’re going to be fine.

 **Miles:** Eh, probably. What are you doing?

 **Peter B:** Watching a movie. What are you doing?

 **Miles:** Staring at the ceiling. I can’t sleep.

 **Peter B:** Everything okay?

 **Miles:** Yeah. Just one of those nights. How about you?

 **Peter B:** One of those nights, bud.

 **Miles:** Well, if we can’t sleep, how about we hang out?

 **Peter B:** You’ve got school tomorrow.

 **Miles:** So? It’s not like I’m going to skip. I’ll chill with you for the night, watch a couple of movies, down a caffeine-laden drink in the morning and trudge my way to school by 7:30.

 **Peter B:** All right. But don’t blame me when you get in trouble for passing out during class.

 **Miles:** Deal.

…

His backpack slung over one shoulder and his duffel bag in his other hand, Miles appeared in the middle of Peter’s apartment. The man raised a brow when the teen dumped his bags by the door. “I didn’t say you could move in.”

“It’s my school stuff,” returned Miles. “So I don’t have to worry about going back to my dorm in the morning. I’ll just get ready here.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have food for you.”

Miles eyed the pizza box sitting on the hardwood floor in front of Peter. He plucked out a pepperoni slice and dropped onto the mattress. “That’s a lie,” he said through a mouthful of cold dough and cheese.

“You owe me five dollars.” Peter closed the grease-stained cardboard box and went to stick it in his fridge. “This is also your breakfast, by the way.”

“Healthy,” quipped Miles. “I can see why you’re in top shape.”

Peter shot the boy a glare. “I’m offended that you haven’t noticed that I lost ten pounds.”

“You always lose ten pounds. Then you put them back on again.” Miles waved his pizza slice in the air. “I thought you were cutting back on this stuff.”

“You ever try cutting out pizza? It’s hard, man.” Peter walked over and snatched the remainder of the slice from Miles’ hand, shoving it into his mouth. “You shouldn’t eat this late. It’s not good for you.”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” said Miles in annoyance.

“Yup. Get used to it.”

He dropped heavily onto the worn-out mattress. Miles pulled the covers over his body and wriggled into a comfortable position. “So, how was your day?” he asked conversationally.

“It was fine up until my home got invaded by a runt,” said Peter, though his eyes shone with fondness. “How was school?”

“Fine,” said Miles with a shrug. “Nothing exciting happened. I captured a couple of criminals after school, though.”

“Anything difficult?”

“Nah. Just a few bank robbers. Criminal activity has gone down since Kingpin was arrested.”

“And who’s responsible for that?” asked Peter, teasingly elbowing Miles’ side.

“Ours,” said Miles with a laugh, trying to wiggle away. “I couldn’t have done it without you and the others.”

“That’s true. I am the key to your success.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go that far.” Turning onto his side, Miles regarded Peter. The glow of the television screen threw his dark bags into clarity. “Is there a particular reason why you can’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

But his eyes didn’t match his lighthearted tone. His brown orbs were exhausted and dull and Miles frowned. “Yes there is. You can talk to me, if you want.”

“It’s for me to deal with, buddy.”

“And I’m here to help you,” said Miles stubbornly.

Peter glanced at the teen, who stared at him with an earnest expression. The pressure in his chest lessened and he no longer felt like he was about to suffocate. “I have moments,” he said at last, turning to look somberly at the ceiling. “Where I just think about all the stupid stuff I did and where I went wrong. The night is when it gets worse, because there’s nothing to distract me.”

“What kind of stupid stuff?”

“Everything I put MJ through. Not being there for her. Not listening to her and her needs. Closing myself off from her. I promised her forever but, in the end, I couldn’t give her what she wanted—a family.”

There was misery in his voice and Miles abruptly sat up. He leaned into Peter’s line of sight and said firmly, “It’s not the end, because the two of you are back together. You’re dating and you’re moving slowly and you’re going to get married again one day.”

“I messed up the first time,” said Peter softly, and regret twisted through his body. “I can’t put her through that again.”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“You took that leap of faith and you nailed it.”

The conviction in Miles’ voice caused Peter’s eyes to widen with surprise. A smile broke across his lips and he said, “I wouldn’t say I nailed it, bud.”

“Sure you did,” said Miles confidently. “You went and talked to her, and you worked it out.”

“Yeah, but I should have gotten it right the first time.” Peter ran his fingers through his hair with a tired sigh. “And I’m still Spider-Man. I still put her through all that stress…she doesn’t deserve that.”

“She wouldn’t be with you if she couldn’t handle it.”

“When did you become a guru in love?” asked Peter, slightly mystified.

“It’s in my genes. But seriously, Peter, I know you’re scared. I’m sure Mary Jane is scared too. But she wants to be with you. She took you back, and you took her back. You’re in love. And when you’re really in love, you can work through all the problems that are thrown at you, even the weird Spider-Man kind. And as for the family thing, you’re going to be fine. You’re a great dad.”

Peter’s eyebrow jerked upwards. “You’re? As in present tense?”

Cheeks colouring slightly, Miles jerked backwards and said quickly, “No, I used future tense. I said you’ll be a great dad.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did!”

Miles let out a yelp when Peter grabbed him into a headlock. Dragging the boy close, Peter dug his knuckles into his scalp. “That’s definitely not what you said. Confess!”

“All right, okay, I said you’re a great dad! As in presently you’re a great dad,” said Miles with an embarrassed groan. “Happy?”

The affectionate assault stopped and Miles found himself being pulled into a proper hug. “Very,” said Peter, and if Miles was in a position to properly see his face, he would find it brimming with love and warmth. “Thanks, buddy.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

It took a second for Miles to understand what Peter meant. Letting out a sigh, he leaned his head back to rest against Peter’s chest. “Sometimes I picture Uncle Aaron dying and it just keeps playing on a loop, like some kind of sick video,” he muttered. “I can’t get it to stop and it freaks me out.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” said Peter with sympathy. “I was with my aunt in the hospital room when she died. Still can’t go in a hospital. It sucks when our brain turns against us. But I learned to stop the unwanted memories from taking over.”

“How?”

“Focus on a memory that makes you happy. Keep it in your mind until it chases the bad ones away. It works for me.”

“What memory do you use?” asked Miles curiously.

“Aunt May and Uncle Ben took me to my first science museum when I was eleven. They let me race from exhibit to exhibit. We were there from the time it opened until it closed. On the way home we talked about everything we had seen. It was amazing.”

Miles gave a thoughtful hum. “Maybe I’ll try that next time I can’t sleep.”

“Speaking of sleep, I think it’s time we gave it an actual try, bud.” Peter leaned back to grab his phone, which rested on the floor. He checked the time and gave a soft whistle. “Two in the morning. You really are going to be a zombie tomorrow if you don’t try to sleep.”

“All right.”

Peter turned off the television and Miles tried snuggling under the blankets again. He buried his head into his pillow and closed his eyes. Silence filled the room, except for their soft breathing. Miles tried counting sheep and doing multiplication tables in his head, but sleep did not come. He flopped over to face Peter, whose eyes were also closed.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Me either.” Eyes snapping open, Peter gave an irritated grunt. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

“I might have an idea. Give me a sec.”

Miles tapped his PMT and vanished. Peter sat up and blinked. “Okay,” he drawled. “Thanks for cluing me in.”

The thirteen-year-old returned a few minutes later, loaded down with blankets and pillows. “Got them!”

“All right, I’m stumped. What are we doing?”

“A pillow fort. When I was little, my mom would make one when there was a storm and I couldn’t sleep. You can work on the structure.”

Peter offered a sarcastic salute. “You got it, boss.”

Making the structure was easy, since most of his stuff was still housed in boxes. He created four pillars of cardboard boxes at each corner of the mattress. Miles attached two blankets together with webbing and draped them over the boxes. They crawled inside the fort with the rest of the blankets and pillows.

“It’s been forever since I’ve done one of these,” said Peter.

“Me too.”

They arranged the pillows into a semi-circle and covered themselves with blankets. Their makeshift fort was cozy and comfortable, and as if it were magic, Peter felt exhaustion overcome him. He sank into the pillows and pulled Miles into an embrace.

“Good idea, bud,” he said with a yawn. “I’m keeping it.”

“They’re my pillows,” said Miles tiredly, snuggling into his hold. “You can’t have them.”

“Sleep now. Bicker later.”

Within minutes, the two were sound asleep. It was the most restful slumber Peter had in a while.

…

 **Miles:** I can’t believe it.

 **Peter B:** Hey, it’s not my fault you didn’t set your phone’s alarm.

 **Miles:** I missed most of first period!

 **Peter B:** Then you shouldn’t have spent that much time in the shower. You used up all my hot water, punk.

 **Miles:** Ugh. I have to get my parents to sign my tardy slip. What am I supposed to tell them?

 **Peter B:** That you couldn’t sleep so you crossed dimensions to hang out with your Spider-Dad in a pillow fort?

 **Miles:** Yeah. That’ll go over well.


	14. Nurse Peni

**Noir: @Peni**

**Peni:** Hey! You’re not going to cancel, are you? I was just getting ready to head to your place.

 **Noir:** Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not feeling all that well.

 **Peni:** Aw no! Are you sure you don’t want me to come over? I can help you.

 **Noir:** Don’t need you getting sick, doll. I’ll be fine. Just need to let it pass.

 **Peni:** Well…if you’re sure.

 **Noir:** Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you when I’m on the mend.

…

It was a small miracle that he didn’t have any meetings scheduled for the day. The streets would have to suffer without his intervention for a while, but it wouldn’t be the first time. He wouldn’t be able to offer much service in any case.

Shivers racked through his body and he pulled the blankets tighter around him. Sweat caused his pajamas to cling to his skin. A persistent ache hammered against his skull and his throat was dry and scratchy. He hated being restricted by illness, but he learned that pushing himself only made it worse.

“Hey, Noir!”

In his half-conscious state the man flipped around, aiming his webbing at the intruder. A shriek rang out and his heart froze as his brain finally processed the voice. “Peni?” he rasped.

The thirteen-year-old peeked up from where she had flattened herself to the floor. Her instincts had allowed her to dodge the attack in the nick of time. “Hi,” she said sheepishly, slowly getting back to her feet. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Noir struggled to sit up, hissing softly as his body protested the movement. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m totally fine. Didn’t even hit me. Great aim, by the way.”

She perched on the edge of Noir’s bed and studied him intently. His skin was flushed from fever and glistened with sweat. He eased back against his pillows and rubbed at the space between his eyes. “Ya can’t barge in on me like that, doll.”

“Sorry,” Peni repeated. “I just wanted to check on you.”

“I thought I told ya to stay home.”

“You can’t expect me to just sit in my room or tinker in my lab when you’re sick,” exclaimed Peni. “I mean, if I told you to stay home, you wouldn’t listen.”

“You have a point,” conceded Noir. “Thanks, sweetheart. But I’m fine.”

Peni leaned forwards and lightly rested her wrist against Noir’s forehead. It was hot to the touch and her brow creased with concern. “You have a fever.”

“I wouldn’t get too close,” warned Noir.

“The germs are already airborne,” said Peni dismissively. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

She tapped her PMT and disappeared. Noir gave his head a fond and bewildered shake. “That girl,” he muttered.

Peni returned ten minutes later with her backpack slung over her shoulder and carrying a pot in her bare hands. “Here’s lunch,” she chirped, setting it on his nightstand table.

“Didn’t that burn you?”

“Nope. The pot contains the heat but never actually gets hot.” When Noir sent her baffled glance, she grinned. “The future is nifty.”

“I don’t really think I’m up for food, doll,” said Noir with a grimace. His stomach churned at the very idea.

“That’s what this trash can is for,” said Peni, nudging the metal bucket closer to Noir’s bed. “In case you throw up what you eat.” She shrugged off her backpack and pulled out a small white bottle. She tipped it into her palm and held out a small red pill.

Noir’s eyes narrowed. “What is that?”

“Paracetamol. It’s for fevers. It’ll help your temperature go down.”

Noir accepted the pill and stared at it hesitantly. After a moment of deliberation, he popped it into his mouth and grabbed his glass of water. He washed it down and asked warily, “Let’s see how my body reacts to future medicine.”

“You’ll be fine,” assured Peni. “Paracetamol was discovered long before 1933. It just, you know, wasn’t utilized properly until much later.” She pulled her tablet from her bag and held it up to face Noir. She pressed a button and Noir jumped when the device flashed, dousing him in blue light before shutting off. Peni studied the results on her screen. “All right. A fever of forty degrees Celsius. The medicine will take care of that in a bit.”

“Peni, ya don’t have to—”

The girl swiftly moved closer to his face, so they were almost nose to nose. With a stern glare she said firmly, “Yes I do. You always take care of me. Let me take care of you once in a while.”

Lips curling in an affectionate smile, Noir briefly rested his forehead against hers. “All right, doll. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Peni straightened and asked, “Where’s your bathroom?”

Noir gestured tiredly towards the right and Peni went in search of a washcloth. She found one in the cupboard next to the sink and soaked it with cold water. She went to Noir and gently draped it over his forehead. The cool water was a relief against his hot skin and Noir closed his eyes.

He quickly fell asleep despite himself. Peni tucked him in and took a minute to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. Satisfied that he was in a restful slumber, Peni looked around for a place to relax. There was a couch in the next room, so she settled against the grey cushions and watched a movie on her tablet as she waited for him to wake up.

…

A few hours later Noir awoke, his mind hazy but no longer pounding. He squinted into the darkness of his room, his Spider Sense informing him that Peni was around but he wasn’t able to see her. His mind immediately jumping to the worst possible conclusion, he called, “Peni?”

There was a small thud from the next room before the girl appeared in his bedroom doorframe. She hadn’t missed the panic lacing his voice and she asked frantically, “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

Relief crashed over him and his heartbeat settled to its regular rhythm. “No, sweetheart. Just wasn’t sure where ya were.”

“Oh, I was just watching a movie.” Peni closed the film, which she had paused upon hearing Noir’s shout, and brought up her vitals scanner. This time Noir didn’t even blink as the light washed over him and a satisfied smile crossed Peni’s features. “Your fever went down a bit!”

“Thanks to you and your medicine,” said Noir gratefully. “Usually takes longer than that, even with my healin’ factor.”

“Just call me Nurse Peni,” she said cheerfully. “Now it’s time to get some food in you.”

She went over to the pot and took off the lid. Noir gave a soft whistle as steam escaped into the air. “That’s some pot.”

After retrieving a spoon and a bowl, Peni handed Noir his lunch. “Chicken noodle soup soothes the soul no matter the time period. Or I guess ever since chicken soup was invented, anyway.”

Noir took a cautious sip. The broth was warm and the flavour caused his stomach to rumble in approval. He ate two bowls of soup and drained a glass of water. As Peni went to collect his dishes, he said, “You’ve done enough, doll. Ya don’t need to do my chores too.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” she insisted.

She let out a squeal when he suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her against his side and she happily snuggled against him. “You know, this might make me sick,” she said playfully.

Noir lightly tapped her nose. “The germs are already airborne. Thanks for comin’ to see me, sweetheart.”

“Anytime.” Peeking up at him, Peni asked, “Does this technically count as me disobeying your rule?”

“What do you think?”

“Definitely not.”

Noir chuckled softly. “Then I suppose not. Ya seem to be catchin’ the lucky breaks.”

“I wouldn’t call you getting sick lucky.”

“Eh, it happens. Usually its not too bad. I woulda been fine. But I wouldn’t have been nearly as comfortable.”

“I wasn’t sure what the medicine was like in your time,” muttered Peni, playing with a loose thread on the blanket. “I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.”

“It’s my job to worry about you, doll.”

“And it’s my job to worry about you,” said Peni stubbornly.

Smoothing his fingers through her hair, Noir smiled with fondness and affection. “I guess it’s a two-way street.”

“It definitely is.”

“Ya can go home, if ya want. I promise I’ll be fine.”

“I’d rather stay here.” Peni rested her head against his chest and his heartbeat thumped strongly in her ear. “If that’s okay.”

Noir tucked his chin against her hair and said, “Sure is, sweetheart.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, doll.”

…

 **Noir:** Hey, **@Peni**. How about we reschedule your visit?

 **Peni:** How about Sunday?

 **Noir:** You can come over after school, if you want.

 **Peni:** I’d love to, but I’m not feeling so good.

 **Noir:** Seems like I passed the bug down to you. Sorry, doll.

 **Peni:** It’s okay! I’ll be better in no time. Future medicine plus a healing factor equals fast recovery.

 **Noir:** Tell you what. What if I come visit you? I think I might have a bowl of chicken soup with your name on it.

 **Peni:** You’re the best, Noir.     


	15. Spiders on a Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action scenes really aren't my strength sometimes I wonder why I bother. Have a terribly written train sequence.

**Miles:** Hey **@Peni** can I come over and play video games?

 **Peni:** Of course! Anyone else want to come over?

 **Gwen:** I’m in.

 **Peter B:** I’m out.

 **Miles:** Right, the virtual reality system makes you nauseous.

 **Gwen:** The effects of old age can be a shame.

 **Peter B:** Shut up. I’m not old. I just prefer my video games to be far less immersive and realistic.

 **Porker:** I’m still traumatised from the time we played a shooter game with Noir.

 **Noir:** That was fun.

 **Porker:** Maybe for you.

 **Noir:** I’m going to have to sit this one out, sweetheart. I’ve got some paperwork to do.

 **Miles:** Guess it’ll just be us.

 **Gwen:** Let’s make a pact not to be so boring when we get old.

 **Peni:** Deal!

**_Peni has logged off_ **

**Miles:** Deal.

**_Miles has logged off_ **

**Gwen:** And deal!

**_Gwen has logged off_ **

**Peter B:** One of these days…

 **Porker:** Bang! Zoom! Straight to the moon!

 **Peter B:** You are not helping.

…

If there was one thing Miles greatly appreciated about Peni’s dimension, besides Peni herself, it was Horizon.

Horizon was the name given to the fully immersive virtual reality simulator. It was programmed with thousands of games and simulations, and Miles felt he barely glimpsed the possibilities Horizon offered.

He and Gwen settled on Peni’s bed while the girl rifled through her closet for the white wraparound goggles that functioned as the gateway to Horizon. “I know I put them somewhere,” she muttered under her breath.

Gwen shook her head. “Seriously. You have access to a full virtual reality and you treat it like I do my GameStation controllers.”

“I think your video games are fascinating,” said Peni, leaning further into her closet and lifting up a pile of clothes. “They’re so simplistic and yet entertaining. Ha! Got them!”

She triumphantly held out the VR goggles and handed them to her friends. Miles slipped them over his head and his vision was obscured by the black screen. He pressed the button on the side of the goggles and they immediately flared to life. Thin metal wires snaked down the back of his neck and down his body, settling over his nerves. The wires would simulate any sensation he came across while in the VR world.

Miles had yet to understand how they managed to fit such advanced technology into a small device.

In mere seconds he was standing in a white-walled room with the Horizon logo floating above a holographic console. Peni skipped forwards and tapped a few keys, bringing up the almost endless list of games.

“What do you guys want to play?”

“You know we never know how to answer that question,” replied Gwen. “There’s way too many to choose from.”

“What have you been playing lately?” asked Miles.

Peni’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, a new one came out a few weeks ago! It’s super fun. It’s based off the old shopping carts people used to use.”

“You mean the ones we use?” asked Gwen with a smirk.

“Yeah. Those.” Peni swiped the screen with her finger and changed the display to her list of played games. Near the top was one called Shopping Cart Wars. Pointing at it, she explained, “The goal is to finish your shopping list before the other players. You can try to mess them up by throwing food at them.”

“Let’s do it,” said Miles immediately. “Gwen, you are so getting a pie to the face.”

“We’ll see,” said Gwen with a scoff.

“Here we go!” said Peni cheerfully, smacking the game tile with her hand.

The room transformed into a supermarket, with white tiled floors, harsh fluorescent lighting and frigid air conditioning. Miles, Gwen and Peni were transported to different spots and Miles found himself near the deli section. A lined piece of paper detailing his needed grocery items floated in front of him and he grabbed it.

 _“Game will start in ten seconds,”_ the software declared.

Miles gripped the handle of the shopping cart with one hand as he scanned the list. “Eggs, milk, beans, chocolate chip muffins…why is there nothing from the deli section?”

_“Begin!”_

Miles began to sprint with his cart, deciding to start with the easy stuff. The bakery was across from the deli section and he found the table stacked with plastic muffin containers. He hastily read the labels of the first few packages and knocked them aside when he realized they were banana muffins. He found the chocolate chip muffins toward the back and he grabbed them, flinging them into his cart.

“One down!”

He twisted on his heel and began the trek towards the dairy section. It was instinct that spurred his navigation, as the dairy was usually placed in the same vicinity in all supermarkets. But as he passed by the aisles, he noticed there were no signs.

“How am I supposed to tell where the food is?” he cried.

Peni suddenly shot out of the aisle he was starting to pass. She slammed her cart into his, sending him flying into a display freezer of frozen pizzas. He let out a yelp as cardboard crunched beneath his weight and his exposed skin was bit by a sharp chill.

“Peni!”

“It’d be too easy if there were signs,” she said with a grin.

As she hurried off Miles spotted several items already in her cart. “The game just started!” he hollered after her. “How the heck do you have so many?”

“Practice!” she called back. “There’s only so many grocery store layouts!”

“Ugh! So not fair!”

Miles figured he wouldn’t be able to beat Peni, but he didn’t mind too much. His main goal was to beat Gwen. He clambered out of the freezer and retrieved his cart. He made it to the dairy section and grabbed a carton of milk.

The sound of wheels rolling against the tiles caused him to peek over his shoulder. Gwen appeared at the other end of the aisle. “What the heck?” he said with a scowl, staring at the small pile of items in her cart. “How are you two doing that?”

“You need to go grocery shopping more often,” said Gwen with a smirk, plucking a box of waffles from the freezer.

Miles removed a few eggs and said with narrowed eyes, “I forgot to grab a pie, but these will work.”

He lobbed them across the aisle. Gwen jumped backwards to avoid being splattered by yolk and she snapped, “Miles! Knock it off!”

“No.”

Gwen grabbed a can of whipped cream and charged towards him. She couldn’t dodge all the eggs and a few cracked against her head and chest, goop dripping down her body. Miles twisted on his heel and tried to escape with his cart but Gwen tackled him to the ground.

“Not so funny now, huh wise guy?” she demanded, squirting whipped cream into his hair.

“Get off!”

“You started it!”

“No I didn’t! Peni did. She body-slammed me into the pizzas!”

Their brief scuffle was interrupted by a wave of cold liquid. They spluttered and looked up to see Peni standing over them with a now empty jug of juice. “It’s part of the fun,” she said cheekily.

“This is so gross,” grumbled Miles. He shoved Gwen to the side and got to his feet. He gingerly touched his hair, which was completely caked with whipped cream. “You are so going to pay for this.”

“Relax, it’s not real,” said Gwen with a roll of her eyes. “I guess we better get back to the game.”

“Oh, it’s over,” said Peni with a wave of her hand. “I won.” When Miles and Gwen gaped at her, she shrugged. “What? You were too busy wrestling and missed the victory announcement. But you can still compete for second place.”

“It’s been less than five minutes! How did you win in less than five minutes?” demanded Miles.

“I hold the world record in this game for fastest completion time.”

Gwen shook her head. “Why do we bother to play these games when we know she’s going to win?”

“Because we do it to have fun and beat each other,” returned Miles.

“Ah. Right.” Gwen pointed at Miles and said determinedly, “Second place is mine.”

“You wish.”

The supermarket suddenly filled with a red hue and an alarm began to blare. _“Emergency in Sector 7B5,”_ a mechanical voice declared. _“SP//dr assistance is needed. Repeat, emergency in Sector 7B5. SP//dr assistance is needed.”_

“I gotta go,” said Peni quickly. “If you want a fresh round just tell the game you want to start a new one. I’ll be back.”

She tapped the side of her goggles and she disappeared. Gwen and Miles quickly escaped the game and took off their goggles. “We’re coming with you,” said Gwen firmly.

“You don’t have to—”

“We want to,” interrupted Miles, pulling his black mask out of his hoodie pocket and pulling it over his face. “Let’s do this.”

Peni beamed gratefully at them. “Thank you.”

The SP//dr mech joined them in the living room and Peni climbed inside. She studied the information filling her screen and she said, “There’s a out-of-control bullet train. One hundred and fifty passengers. Currently no risk of crashing.”

Fully in their Spider-Man gear, Gwen and Miles latched onto the mech. “Looks like we’ve got a train to catch!” said Gwen.

Miles shot her a pouting glance. “I was going to say that.”

“You snooze you lose.”

The roof of the house retracted and gave SP//dr a quick shortcut to the outside. They flew towards the runaway train and found it barrelling along the tracks at a dangerous speed. Peni had to keep the boosters at full power just to keep up with it.

“We can’t stop it head on,” she said with a furrowed brow as she typed in some calculations. “The backlash will cause severe injury, even death. We have to slow it down gradually and then I’ll be able to stop it.”

“Can we do it manually?” asked Miles.

“No. I did a scan of the train and the system is completely malfunctioning. The brakes are gone.”

“Isn’t this the future?” said Gwen.

“Yeah, but human error is timeless,” returned Peni.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, what if you drop us on the top and we slow it down?” voiced Miles. “Our webbing is pretty durable.”

“We can try,” said Peni slowly. “I’m going to give the passengers a warning. You guys get started.”

She flew over the train and the pair dropped down. The world blurred past them as the train barrelled down the tracks and they could hear the terrified screaming even above the rushing wind.

“I’ll stay here!” called Gwen. “You go towards the middle! When Peni is ready she can take the front!”

“Got it!”

Miles ran the length of the train and came to a halt when he reached the middle of the transport vehicle. He braced his feet against the surface and raised his arms. The first strings of webbing were promptly ripped due to the speed of the train. Miles took a quick breath and tried again, this time not taking a break between web slings. A sticky white web quickly grew as Gwen and Miles webbed the train to anything solid and structurally sound in their path. Some webs splintered apart but most kept together, due to the thickness Gwen and Miles were putting into each web.

After giving the passengers a warning to stay in their seats, Peni joined her friends. “Good job, guys!” she called. “It’s working! Keep it up!”

“I don’t know how much more I can do!” shouted Miles. He could feel his canister running low on web fluid. He hadn’t brought any spares, as he never needed to use so much at one time.

“We’re almost there!” encouraged Gwen. “With Peni’s help we got this.”

The three of them worked like clockwork. In almost perfect unison they fired their webbing, covering the train and passing cityscape in what appeared to be a white gauzy canopy. The webbing material was strong and solid, and eventually the train slowed to a manageable speed for Peni to take care of the rest.

SP//dr jumped in front of the train and used its mechanical limbs to catch it. Peni grit her teeth together as the force sent her jolting around in her seat. She grabbed hold of the control panel with one hand as the other rapidly pressed buttons. “Steady…steady…”

With an almighty screech, the train finally came to a halt. Miles and Gwen swung up to meet her and Miles exclaimed, “That was awesome!”

“Now what?” asked Gwen.

“We’ll have to take it off the tracks. The transit crew will be here shortly to help.” Peni climbed out of her mech. “I sent a message telling them it was now safe to cut the power.”

“They couldn’t have done that before?” asked Miles. “My wrists are killing me.”

“You’re clearly not web-slinging enough,” teased Gwen.

“Sure, but then over a hundred people would be seriously injured and/or dead,” said Peni with a raised brow. “Stopping a train that’s going almost four hundred kilometers an hour in a millisecond isn’t recommended when there’s passengers aboard.”

“Right, you mentioned something like that,” muttered Miles. “Everyone okay?”

“Yup. My scans show everyone is perfectly fine. They’ll have to stay on the train until the police come.” Sirens echoed off in the distance and the kids turned to see a glow of blue and red fast approaching. “Which will be very soon. Then comes the not-fun part.”

“What’s that?” asked Gwen suspiciously.

Peni pointed past them, to the sea of webbing that coated parts of her city. “Cleaning up.”

Miles pulled a face. “Aw, man.”

Gwen gave a resigned sigh. “All right. Where’s the broom?”

…

 **Miles:** Guess what we did today.

 **Peter B:** I can only imagine.

 **Porker:** You lost to Peni in whatever video game you were playing.

 **Miles:** Well, yeah, but that’s not news.

 **Gwen:** We stopped a runaway train travelling at four hundred kilometers an hour. No biggie.

 **Peter B:** Is everyone okay?

 **Peni:** Yup! Miles and Gwen were a great help! It would been a bit trickier without them.

 **Gwen:** It probably would have been much cleaner if you’d done it yourself.

 **Porker:** Cleaner?

 **Peni:** We used webbing to slow the train down enough for SP//dr to force it to stop.

 **Miles:** Saved some people from some nasty whiplash.

 **Noir:** You saved them from much worse, kiddo. Good job.

 **Miles:** Thanks!

 **Peter B:** Slowing a runaway train with your webs, huh?

 **Peter B:** Why do I feel like that’s been done before?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with this one, but I guess every story has their weaker chapters. Hope you took some enjoyment from it nonetheless!


	16. Spider-Dad Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it would be illegal at this point if I didn't give you a Spider-Dad chapter on Father's Day.

**_Miles has created a Private Chat_ **

**_Miles has invited Gwen and Peni to Private Chat_ **

**Miles:** I need an opinion. Like a serious opinion, no sarcasm or sass.

 **Peni:** *cough* Gwen *cough*

 **Gwen:** Like you’ve never sassed.

 **Gwen:** But yeah, I’ll be serious. What’s up, Miles?

 **Miles:** Father’s Day is in a few days and I made my dad a gift. I kind of made Peter one too. Is that weird? Is he going to be freaked if I give it to him?

 **Peni:** I’m really glad you’re bringing up Father’s Day because I also kind of made Noir a gift.

 **Gwen:** ‘Kind of’ seems to be the wrong word choice. You guys definitely made Father’s Day gifts.

 **Miles:** As an unbiased party what do you think?

 **Gwen:** I am completely biased, because I have an idea for Ham that I thought about doing and keep chickening out on.

 **Peni:** Looks like we’re all in the same boat.

 **Miles:** Maybe I’ll just wait until after the sixteenth. That wouldn’t be as weird, right?

 **Gwen:** You mean a random gift as opposed to a Father’s Day gift?

 **Miles:** Or, you know, Christmas.

 **Peni:** But you made it with the intention of it being a Father’s Day gift.

 **Miles:** Yeeeaah. Oh man. This is a bad idea.

 **Gwen:** I don’t know. They seem to be taking the Spider-Dad thing pretty well.

 **Miles:** As a joke, maybe.

 **Peni:** They’ve been serious about it.

 **Gwen:** True, but I don’t know how they’ll react to proper Father’s Day celebrations.

 **Miles:** I’m just gonna forget about it.

 **Peni:** You can’t forget about it! I’m sure you worked really hard on your gift!

 **Miles:** I don’t want to scare Peter off.

 **Gwen:** We all had the idea to do something for them for Father’s Day. We can’t all be misreading the relationships we have with them.

 **Peni:** And we don’t necessarily have to give our gifts to them on Father’s Day. We could do it the Friday or the Saturday.

 **Gwen:** Maybe they won’t connect the dots. And if they do, well, I’m pretty sure they’ll be cool with it.

 **Miles:** I guess I’m already in pretty deep. Might as well take the plunge.

 **Peni:** Guess we better initiate contact.

 **Peni:** Miles, you go first.

 **Miles:** What? Why me?

 **Gwen:** You started this conversation.

 **Miles:** Ugh. Fine.

**_Miles created a Private Chat_ **

**_Miles invited Peter B to Private Chat_ **

**Peter B:** Yo

 **Miles:** Hey! I was wondering if you’re free this Friday or Saturday?

 **Peter B:** Either works for me, bud.

 **Miles:** Cool. I can meet you at your place Saturday afternoon, if that works.

 **Peter B:** Sounds good. Anything in particular you want to do?

 **Miles:** Nah. I was thinking we could just chill.

 **Peter B:** Sounds like a plan, kiddo.

 **Miles:** Awesome. See you then!

**_Miles logged out of Private Chat_ **

**Miles:** All right I did it. We’re good for Saturday afternoon.

 **Gwen:** You’re next, Peni.

 **Peni:** Me? All right.

**_Peni created a Private Chat_ **

**_Peni invited Noir to Private Chat_ **

**Peni:** Hey Noir!

 **Noir:** Hey, sweetheart.

 **Peni:** Do you wanna hang out on Saturday?

 **Noir:** I’ve got a meeting in the morning, but I’m free in the afternoon.

 **Peni:** Perfect! My dimension or yours?

 **Noir:** You can come to mine, if you’d like.

 **Peni:** I’d like that. See you in a few days!

**_Peni logged out of Private Chat_ **

**Peni:** Gwen! You’re turn!

 **Gwen:** On it.

**_Gwen created a Private Chat_ **

**_Gwen invited Porker to Private Chat_ **

**Porker:** Is there a body this time?

 **Gwen:** You keep asking that when I invite you to a private chat and you’re not going to get a different answer.

 **Porker:** Maybe one day. What’s up?

 **Gwen:** I was just wondering if you were free Saturday afternoon.

 **Porker:** Besides an article that needs writing, not really.

 **Gwen:** I don’t want to interrupt you from your work.

 **Porker:** You won’t be interrupting anything, because I’m not starting it until eight o’clock Sunday night. I do my best work when I’m stressed. I’m all yours on Saturday.

 **Gwen:** I would hate to be the cause of you losing your job.

 **Porker:** They haven’t fired me yet. And trust me, they really should have by now.

 **Gwen:** I guess they’re desperate.

**_Gwen logged out of Private Chat_ **

**Gwen:** And we’re done.

 **Miles:** I guess it’s too late to turn back now.

 **Peni:** Operation Spider-Dad Day is a go!

…

Miles' heart thudded nervously in his chest and he kept sending uncertain glances at the large plastic bag clutched in his hands. He took a deep breath to settle his nerves before tapping his PMT and transporting to Peter's apartment.

Peter was shuffling around his tiny kitchen nook, haphazardly piling dishes in the sink. He didn't even flinch upon Miles' abrupt arrival. "Hey, bud."

“You’re supposed to wash them,” advised Miles. “With soap and water.”

“No, no, the magic dishwashing fairy takes care of this at night,” returned Peter. “Though she’s been doing terrible work these past couple of months.”

“I have feeling your magic dishwashing fairy will return when you move back in with Mary Jane,” said Miles with a snicker.

“You’re right. Except this time, I’ll be the magic fairy.”

“You might as well start practicing, then.”

Peter tossed a dishtowel at the boy, who ducked and caught it. “All right, wise guy. I’ll wash. You dry.”

“Geez. If I wanted to do chores I would have just stayed at home.”

He dropped his bag by the door and went to stand next to Peter. Due to the small confines of the kitchen they were standing shoulder to shoulder. Peter’s elbow kept digging into Miles’ side as he swiped his cloth over food-encrusted plates. Miles would have considered it accidental if it weren’t for the smirk on Peter’s face.

_Oh. It’s on._

Miles waited until Peter lifted a plate out of the soapy water before slamming his elbow into Peter’s side. The man let out a grunt and dropped the plate in surprise. It fell into the water and caused a large splash, drenching Peter’s face.

Miles grinned as Peter coughed, soap bubbles coating his cheeks and hair. “That’s a good look for you.”

“Yeah?” asked Peter with narrowed eyes. He grabbed the sink’s extendable nozzle and aimed it at Miles, spraying the boy with cold water. “Drowned rat is a good look for you.”

“Stop!” shrieked Miles, holding up his hands to guard his face. “Dude, you’re messing up your floor!”

Peter set the nozzle aside and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the stickiness of the dish soap. “I am going in the shower to get this junk out. You are going to mop this floor.”

“What?” whined Miles. “That is so not fair. You started it.”

“And I finished it,” said Peter in amusement, reaching out to ruffle Miles’ damp hair. “Next time you can do the dishes by yourself.”

Miles stuck out his tongue as Peter headed for the bathroom. He quickly finished the dishes and drained the sink of water. He tiptoed across the slick floor and went in search of a mop but couldn’t find one. With an annoyed grumble he grabbed a roll of paper towels.

“Mop the floor, he says. He doesn’t even have a mop.”

It took a dozen wads of paper towels, but the floor was relatively dry by the time Peter returned. He gave an approving nod and said, “Good job, buddy.”

“Thanks. You’re going to need more paper towels, by the way.”

Peter raised a brow as Miles set the roll on the counter. “That was full.”

“Yeah. But I needed them to clean the floor. What kind of an adult doesn’t own a mop?”

“This one, apparently.” Peter gave a thoughtful hum. “Paper towels and a mop. Gonna need to add that to the grocery list. Thanks for cleaning, bud.”

“No problem.”

“The work is done, and now we can play. There’s a new ice-cream shop a few blocks from here. Want to check it out?”

“Sure.”

Peter turned towards the door and paused when he spotted an unfamiliar bag leaning next to it. “That yours?”

“Oh.” Miles felt his heartbeat start to thud anxiously in his chest as he remembered the main purpose of his visit. “Uh, yeah. It’s, um, for you actually.”

“For me?” Surprised and touched, Peter carefully opened the bag and found a large piece of poster board inside. He pulled it out and flipped it over, eyes widening as he took in Miles’ artwork.

It was a portrait of the two of them, sketched and shaded entirely with pencil. It was so lifelike that at first glance it appeared to be a black-and-white photo. When a minute passed without Peter saying anything Miles rubbed the back of his neck and asked awkwardly, “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Peter repeated. He looked at Miles and said in awe, “This is amazing.”

Relief flooded through Miles and he smiled. “Thanks! Kinda messed up on parts of the shading, though. I don’t do photorealism all that often.”

“It’s perfect. You’ve got a gift, bud.” Peter tucked the portrait back into the bag. “I’m going to have find a frame for this.”

“Might as well add that to your grocery list.”

“Don’t think they sell frames in the grocery store,” said Peter. “At least not the one I go to.”

“That’s because you go to the cheap one.”

“I’m on a budget!”

“Relax, man. I’m kidding. Can we go get that ice-cream now?”

“Sure. Let me just put this somewhere safe.”

As Peter went to set the portrait somewhere it wouldn’t get dirty or ruined Miles realized that the man hadn’t asked him _why_ he’d made the portrait in the first place. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to explain it was meant for Father’s Day after all. Peni and Gwen might not be happy with him, but Miles wasn’t going to explain if Peter didn’t ask.

The girls might call it cheating, but he could live with that.

“Miles, you still with me?”

The snapping of fingers directly in front of Miles’ face jolted him back to reality. “Yeah! Yeah. Sorry.”

“All right, space case. Let’s get that ice-cream.”

They left Peter’s apartment complex and headed down the sidewalk. “So, kid, is there any particular reason you made that portrait for me?” asked Peter. “Besides the fact I’m awesome and always deserving of gifts.”

_Dang it. Guess I jinxed myself._

“Yeah,” admitted Miles, lowering his gaze to the sidewalk.

“Do I get to hear this reason?” asked Peter when Miles didn’t offer anything further.

“It’s, uh…it’s for Father’s Day.”

Peter came to a screeching halt. Miles kept walking with his head ducked down, not quite ready to face him after this admission. Something stuck to the back of his shirt and he gave a yelp as he was forcibly pulled back.

“Are you crazy?” Miles spluttered, swatting at the webbing. “It’s broad daylight!”

“No one’s watching." Gripping Miles’ shoulders, he said firmly, “I want you to repeat the last thing you said.”

“Are you crazy?” offered Miles with an innocent smile.

“Bud.”

“Fine. Your gift is for Father’s Day. But if that freaks you out or whatever, don’t worry about! We can totally pretend this never happened.”

“Freaked is the last thing I am, Miles,” said Peter, an intense joy swelling within him. “I’m honoured.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Miles searched Peter’s eyes and found warmth and love. “Good,” he said, feeling all tension leave his body. “Good.”

Feeling Miles go lax in his grip Peter’s brow furrowed. “Did you think I was going to turn you away?”

“No!” said Miles quickly. “I mean, at least not as a friend. But you’re super important to me in the dad kind of way. I love my dad, obviously, but I love you too. I know the Spider-Dad thing is kind of a joke but I take it seriously. I just…I just didn’t know if you took it seriously too.”

Clasping the back of Miles’ neck, Peter said intently, “It’s not a joke. Not to me. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear.”

“I just like to overthink things.”

Peter pulled Miles in for a hug and closed his eyes briefly against the swell of love that rose within him. “Thank you, Miles.”

“You’re welcome,” returned Miles, wrapping his arms around Peter. “Happy Spider-Dad Day.”

Peter laughed and leaned back with a grin. “Spider-Dad Day, huh? I think I can get used to that.”

“You better,” said Miles seriously. “There’s one every year.”

“Nah. There’s two every year.”

“You wish,” said Miles with a snort.

Peter made an expression of mock offense. “Nice to know my birthday means nothing to you.”

“Your birthday is different from Father’s Day.”

“It’s all about me, isn’t it? Basically the same.”

“Man, you gotta deflate that ego,” said Miles. “C’mon. Let’s get that ice-cream.”

Looping his arm over Miles’ shoulders Peter asked, “You buying?”

“Yeah, I’m buying. You’re lucky it’s your day.”

…

Peni appeared in Noir’s living room with her backpack strapped securely over her shoulders. She spotted two egg creams waiting on the coffee table but Noir wasn’t in sight. Her heightened senses picked up movement in the next room and, though she knew Noir was already alerted to her presence, called, “Noir! I’m here.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” greeted Noir, stepping into the room.

“How was your meeting?” asked Peni as flopped down onto the couch. The cushions were always stiffer than she remembered and instead of bouncing she landed with a thud.

“I keep tellin’ ya doll, those ain’t the fun kind of couch cushions,” said Noir in amusement, sitting down at a more controlled pace.

“You need a new couch,” muttered Peni.

“Can’t afford much on my income.”

“I’ll get you a new couch.”

“You’re not gettin’ me a couch.”

“It could be colourful,” persuaded Peni. She grabbed her egg cream and took a sip, the mixture sweet on her taste buds. “Like red! A red couch.”

“Peni.”

“Oh, fine.” Though she didn’t press further she made a mental note to figure out how to get Noir a new couch. One that needed to be far more comfortable than his current one, which felt like she was sitting on a thick piece of cardboard. “Back to my question.”

“Nothin’ excitin’. Just a fella who needs me to investigate his business partner. Apparently, some money has been goin’ missin’.”

“Isn’t that a job for police officers?” asked Peni.

“Only if he wants the matter to go public,” replied Noir. “Any information he gives me remains between us.”

“Gee. I don’t think I’d want to handle people’s personal problems,” said Peni with a wrinkle of her nose. “I’ve got enough of my own.”

Noir’s brow furrowed. “What sort of problems?”

“Teen problems,” said Peni with a shrug.

“Nothin’ serious then.”

The affronted expression the girl gave him almost made Noir laugh. “You don’t remember being a teenager if you don’t think teen problems are serious.”

“Not compared to your SP//dr business, which worries me more.” Noir paused for a moment and then he asked, with a sudden degree of sharpness, “It’s not about fellas, is it?”

The question caused Peni to choke on her egg cream. After several coughs to clear her airways, she started giggling. “No! I’ve got school and protecting a city to worry about. A relationship doesn’t fit into the equation at the moment.”

“Oh. Good,” Noir said with visible relief. “What problems do ya have, then?”

“I have too much work to do. Not just homework. Whenever the city’s technology goes wonky, I get called in to fix it.”

“Don’t they have people for that job?”

“They do.” Peni swirled her straw around her glass. “But I guess because my father and his associates created the most advanced robotic technology ever seen, they think it’d be more efficient to call me in for the more important repairs. I just feel like I don’t have a lot of time for me some days.”

“Then say no.”

“I don’t know…I don’t like saying no to people when they want my help.”

“Ya need to, if it’s your happiness and needs that are being sacrificed,” said Noir firmly. “You’re smart and capable, but you’re still a kid. Ya don’t need to get worn out so soon. Ya don’t need to be like me.”

Peni tilted her head to the side. “I don’t see anything wrong with being like you. You’re great.”

“You’re better,” returned Noir. “Healthier. I want to make sure ya stay that way.”

“I’ll try to say no when I need to.”

“Good girl.” When they finished their drinks and set the empty glasses aside, Noir asked, “Ya still got a pack of cards on ya?”

“Yup!”

“Deal ‘em out. Ya owe me a rematch in Crazy Eights.”

Peni shifted her backpack into her lap, feeling the solid weight of her gift for Noir. Taking a quick breath, she gently pulled it out and set it on the table. Noir regarded the small, black sphere with curiosity, squinting at the white numbers displayed.

“Ya buy yourself a new clock?”

“Er…no. I made it for you.”

“Me?” said Noir in surprise.

“Yeah. It’s a bit special.” Peni leaned forwards and tapped the button located at the top of the device. The sphere glowed a bright red, a cheerful glow amongst the monochromatic atmosphere. Peni tapped the button once more and the colour changed to pink. “See, it lights up with the bunch of different colours. And you can turn the colours off if you ever need a break.”

Noir was speechless. Peni played with her fingers as she waited for a response, eyeing him with uncertainty. Finally, the man cleared his throat and gently picked up the device. “It’s beautiful, doll. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

“What caused ya to build it? Can’t remember sayin’ I was in need of a clock.”

“It’s for Father’s Day.”

If it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t have heard Peni due to how quietly she answered. But Noir heard her perfectly. Peni stared at her hands and wondered, for a brief second, if she had crossed a line. But then she was gathered in a strong pair of arms and pulled into a tight embrace.

“Thank you,” said Noir, and his voice shook slightly with emotion. He eased back and lightly ran his fingers through her hair. “Never thought much about havin’ kids. Didn’t think it possible with my work. But then I met you, and you’ve brought a lot of joy to my dismal life.”

“You’ve given me a lot of joy, too,” returned Peni. “I never really thought I would feel this kind of love again. Not since my father passed away. You mean so much to me, and I’m really glad I mean just as much to you.”

“Did you think you didn’t?” asked Noir with a frown.

“Just silly doubts,” said Peni with a sheepish smile. “Miles, Gwen and I all felt the same way. We love our Spider-Dads, but we suddenly weren’t sure if celebrating Father’s Day would be acceptable.”

“It’s more than acceptable. I know I can speak for Peter and Ham when I say that. I love you, sweetheart. Ya are my kid, as far as I’m concerned.”

Grinning broadly, Peni asked cheekily, “Even if I destroy you at Crazy Eights?”

“We haven’t started the game yet, doll. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

…

Gwen appeared outside of Ham’s apartment with a picnic basket clutched in her hands. She knocked on his door and said in a deep voice, “It’s your boss. I want that story now, Porker.” When the door swung open, she asked, “Did I scare you?”

“Please,” said Ham with a snort. “My boss doesn’t make house visits. It’s always a furious phone call at four in the morning.”

“I think it would have been my impression that would have clued you in.”

“Actually, it was frighteningly spot-on.”

“Correctly impersonating people I’ve never met is a gift,” quipped Gwen. “You ready?”

“Ready for what?”

Gwen held up the large straw basket and answered, “A picnic.”

“A picnic? Why didn’t you say so? I would have opened the door sooner!”

“Oh, wooow. A while three seconds earlier. I would have been honoured.”

“The only sass I want from you is sarsaparilla.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Ham let out a sigh as he stepped out of his apartment and locked the door behind him. “What ignorance.”

Gwen rolled her eyes as she followed him out of the complex. “I’ll make a mental note. Next time, bring the sarsaparilla, whatever that is.”

Ham’s apartment building mostly consisted of shades of brown. It was easier to take in the flatness and brightness of the colours. But when they stepped outside Gwen’s vision blurred slightly as it tried to take in the vibrant landscape all at once. Ham’s dimension really was like jumping into a Saturday morning cartoon, with the shapes loose and flexible and where logic didn’t exist.

Ham wasn’t concerned with having the others blend in when they visited him. It was basically impossible since it was a world of animals with zero humans, and he explained their presence with a simple, “It’s an animation error.”

It was a reasoning that always worked. Gwen tried not to think too much about it. She figured Ham’s world wasn’t really a place for deep thought.

They crossed the street and Gwen had to duck between a giraffe’s legs to avoid being smashed into by an elephant. Ham easily squeezed his way through the crowd with a _schwip!_

“You want me to hold the basket?” asked Ham, peering back at her with a grin. “I’d hate to have anything squashed by accident.”

“I’ve got it,” said Gwen with a slight pant of exertion. For some reason, no matter what street they crossed in Ham’s world, there was always a large crowd of animals doing the same. “I would hate for you to eat everything before we get there.”

“I wouldn’t eat everything. I’d save you half a sandwich.”

“How generous of you.”

They entered the park and found a cluster of trees that provided a generous amount of shade. Gwen set the basket down and reached inside her backpack, pulling out a dark red blanket. She laid it out across the grass and splayed across the fabric.

“This is comfortable,” she said with a sigh.

Ham opened up the basket and gave an impressed whistle as he studied the contents. “Wow. You went all out.”

“If you’re going to do a picnic you might as well do it right,” replied Gwen.

She sat up and watched as Ham removed the food from the straw confines. Three saran-wrapped plates of egg, tuna, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, respectfully. A container of olives, a container of pickles, and a container of sliced cheddar cheese. Two bags of potato chips, two bottles of lemonade, a plate of chocolate chip cookies and an apple pie.

“Think that’ll satisfy you?” asked Gwen with a smirk.

“Maybe,” said Ham flippantly.

Gwen grinned and pulled out two paper plates from her backpack. “Try not to make a mess on this blanket. I do plan on using it after this.”

“I hope you wash it first.”

“Of course. I’m not a pig.”

“Oi, watch it.”

For a moment they sat in silence, eating the food spread out before them. When Gwen was halfway through a drink of lemonade Ham asked casually, “Are you going to tell me this is for Father’s Day or am I supposed to ask myself?”

Gwen spluttered in surprise, hastily setting down her lemonade as she coughed. She turned to stare at Ham, her cheeks turning red as the pig regarded her. “How did you—?”

“You came to my apartment with a surprise picnic the day before Father’s Day. A bit too obvious to be a coincidence.”

Gwen tucked her knees against her chest and muttered, “I was going to tell you. Eventually.”

“Did you think I was going to laugh at you or something?” asked Ham with a slight frown. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“I know. But…I guess it was the rejection I was worried about,” confessed Gwen, nervously tugging her fingers through her hair. “The Spider-Dad thing started as a joke but it means something pretty serious to me now. My dad is great and I love him, but there are just things I can’t talk to him about, things that really matter. But I can talk with you.”

Ham moved to sit on her knees and leaned forwards until their foreheads were touching. “I love you, rockstar. You don’t ever have to worry about rejection, from me or the others. As for the Spider-Dad deal, if I haven’t proven I’m taking it seriously than clearly I’m not doing my job right.”

Gwen smiled and pulled him into a proper hug. Ham felt a strong warmth and pride build in his chest, and if he hadn’t been feeling it intensely over the past few months it might have been overwhelming.

“You’re doing a great job,” said Gwen sincerely. “Better than I expected, really.”

“Can I get some sincerity without the wisecracks?”

“I love you.”

“There we go.”

Gwen let Ham go and studied the remaining food. “I think I overdid it.”

“Nonsense. I would dare to say you didn’t make enough.”

Gwen watched as Ham dove into the plate of egg salad sandwiches. “So much for leftovers,” she said in amusement. “Gimme the pie. I want a slice. And the cookies while you’re at it.”

“Where’s the please?”

“Please.”

“No. They’re mine.”

…

 **Miles:** Happy Father’s Day!

 **Peni:** Happy Father’s Day!

 **Gwen:** Happy Father’s Day/Spider-Dad Day!

 **Peter B:** Thanks, kiddos.

 **Noir:** You three are really special.

 **Porker:** Oh, yeah, they’re super weird.

 **Miles:** The sentiment is so strong I’m nearly in tears.

 **Porker:** Only nearly?

 **Gwen:** Try not to work too hard today, guys.

 **Peter B:** Do I ever?

 **Gwen:** Fair point.

 **Peni:** If everyone is free tonight, maybe we can meet up at the diner.

 **Miles:** I’m in. I can meet you there after dinner.

 **Gwen:** Works for me!

 **Noir:** Wouldn’t miss it.

 **Miles:** Cool. Catch you guys later! Gonna take my dad out for breakfast.

**_Miles has logged off_ **

**Gwen:** Yeah, my dad and I better head to the brunch place before it erupts into chaos. See you tonight!

**_Gwen has logged off_ **

**Peni:** I better get going as well. The memorial ceremony for my father is going to start soon and I really shouldn’t be late. See you soon!

**_Peni has logged off_ **

**Peter B:** Someone want to explain to me how we got so lucky to have them as our kids?

 **Noir:** I can’t figure it out myself. But I’m grateful.

 **Porker:** I don’t know and I don’t care. All I know is that I ain’t letting them go.

 **Noir:** Never.

 **Peter B:** They’re stuck with us now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on vacation for the next week and a bit, so it's going to be a little while for the next chapter.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this one, and I'll see you when I get back!


	17. Sticks and Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains racism. More specifically, racist remarks.

**_Miles created a Private Chat_ **

**_Miles invited Gwen to Private Chat_ **

**Miles:** Question: What’s the best way to deal with jerks?

 **Gwen:** I’d say ignore them but that’s probably not what you want to hear. Are you being bullied?

 **Miles:** There’s this new kid that thinks he’s hot stuff and for some reason he likes to rag on me. He’s so annoying.

 **Gwen:** But he hasn’t hit you or anything?

 **Miles:** Oh, heck no. If he tried, I’d pulverise him. Not because I have Spider Strength, but because this dude could not throw a punch to save his life.

 **Miles:** Like yeah, fine, my shoes are always untied but that doesn’t make me an unkempt slob.

 **Gwen:** He said that?

 **Miles:** In front of a hallway full of people.

 **Gwen:** And you, the master of comebacks, didn’t have anything to say?

 **Miles:** I was sorely tempted to point out the spinach between his teeth.

 **Gwen:** It’s always good to take the high road. Not fun, but it might save you some grief.

 **Miles:** He does thrive off attention.

 **Miles:** I better get going or I’m going to be late for class. Thanks for listening. Just had to let off some steam.

 **Gwen:** Anytime. And if it escalates, tell me. We’ll handle it together.

 **Miles:** Promise.

…

Gerry Bright—that’s Gerry with a hard _g_ , as he constantly felt the need to point out—had only been at Visions Academy for two weeks. He was blonde and blue-eyed and came from a wealthy family. He was also supremely annoying.

Miles liked to think he had a decent amount of patience when it came to dealing with people. But Gerry was tearing at his nerves and Miles did not know what his deal was. He couldn’t even ask him, since Gerry found himself an entourage that followed him around _everywhere_. Miles really didn’t want to start a confrontation, in any case, so he kept his mouth shut and his scathing comebacks in his head.

He entered the courtyard and immediately rolled his eyes upon spotting Gerry and his friends gathered near a set of picnic tables. He was tempted to turn around and take the long way to class, but there wasn’t time and he wasn’t going to back down from an insecure rich kid.

Taking a quick breath to steel himself, Miles hurried down the cobblestone path leading to the set of doors on the other side of the courtyard. He kept his chin up as he passed by the group. He was a few steps away when the back of his neck tingled sharply and he whirled around, nicking the roll of duct tape before it smacked him.

There were a few awed mumbles by his observing peers and Gerry looked at him, disgruntled by the quick reflexes. But his expression smoothed out into his usual smirk and he said casually, “Nice moves, Morales.”

“Thanks. I think you lost this.”

“No, no, it’s for you. That hole in your shoe can’t be comfortable.”

Miles glanced down at his sneakers. He was aware of his decaying shoes, but figured he would stick it through until the weekend, where he would be free to purchase a new pair. The lip of his right sneaker sagged, revealing a small hole. It wasn’t big enough for his toe to poke through, so he hoped no one would notice.

But of course Gerry would.

Giving an easy smile, Miles said, “Nah, I’m good. Besides, this is the wrong shade of black. It’ll clash with my shoes. I think you need it more than I do. That unibrow is growing in.”

He whipped the roll back at Gerry, who fumbled to catch it. A boy leaned closer to his face and squinted at his eyebrows. “Dude, he’s right!” he exclaimed. “You got hairs starting to join together! It’s turning into a face caterpillar!”

“Whoa. Nice eyesight,” said a girl as the others burst into laughter.

It was Miles’ turn to smirk. “Guess eating all those carrots counted for something. Careful with your wax job, Jerry. That skin of yours looks pretty fragile.”

“It’s _Gerry_ ,” the boy hissed, his pale cheeks colouring pink with humiliation.

“That’s what I said. Jerry. Later.”

He strode away with a swell of satisfaction. He really did try to avoid aggravating Gerry, but a guy could only take so much. He wouldn’t deny that dealing the burn felt great.

“Screw you, you stupid half-breed.”

It was nothing more than a resentful whisper, heard only by the girl sitting directly beside him, who gave a soft horrified gasp, and the boy with enhanced hearing. Miles froze, his eyes going wide for a brief moment before hardening with a cold fury. He whirled around and stormed over, slamming his hand on Gerry’s shoulder and growling, “What the hell did you call me?”

Gerry looked like a deer caught in the headlights, shocked and dumbstruck. “Hey, hands off, Miles! He didn’t say anything!” snapped a boy across the picnic table, who hadn’t heard a thing.

“Yeah,” said Gerry immediately, regaining some composure. He swatted Miles’ hand away and said with a sneer, “I didn’t say anything. You trying to start something?”

Miles stared at the girl, who ducked her gaze and pulled anxiously on the sleeves of her uniform. “You called me a stupid half-breed,” said Miles lowly, fingers curling to form a tight fist. “You wanna tell me what you mean by that?”

Gerry pursed his lips together, and Miles could practically see the debate happening inside his mind. But then the pensive expression left Gerry’s face and he stood with resolve. He leaned forwards so that he was inches from Miles’ face and said, in the same low whisper, “A half-breed. A mix. A cross of black and, what, Mexican? A half-breed.” In a louder voice he said, “I don’t appreciate being accused of something I didn’t do. So I suggest you take the warning I gave you and get lost.”

“What’d you say to him?” asked the boy eagerly.

“I told him if he didn’t get out of my face I was going to mess up his.” Gerry gave Miles’ chest a hard shove. “So what’s it going to be Morales?”

Gerry felt powerful being flanked by his friends. He clearly felt that Miles was outnumbered and he wouldn’t dare try anything.

He was wrong.

Miles flew forwards and his fist cracked into Gerry’s face. The fury pounding through his body overcame his usual control, and his super strength sent Gerry flying across the courtyard, where he tangled into the decorative bushes.

“Gerry!” his friends screamed and raced after him. The other students gathered in the courtyard shouted in surprise at the sight of Gerry flailing in the bushes and stampeded towards the scene. Gerry was screaming in pain and the anger turned to ice-cold terror in Miles’ body when he realized what he had done.

The girl sitting at the picnic table remained glued to the bench, gaping at the spot where Gerry had landed and was now crowded by students. She snapped her head around to stare at Miles and found him gone. She darted her eyes around the courtyard, but the boy was nowhere in sight.

Miles slowly inched his way towards the set of doors he had initially come through. His invisibility powers hid him from his peers and more importantly the teacher that came barreling into the yard to see what the commotion was.

_No no no no no._

He felt sick. He was going to be expelled for sure, and most likely charged with assault. There was no way Gerry was going to let him get away with this. He had his friends to back him up. Miles didn’t have anything.

He’d just made everything a thousand times worse by reacting. And after all his talk about avoiding a confrontation…

He needed to get out of there.

The panic set in and he turned on his heel and sprinted. He dove back into the building, narrowly skirting around a pair of students. In the first empty spot he came across Miles activated his PMT and slapped the button.

In a second he was far away from his situation, where no one could reach him. Miles let out a few deep breaths, clutching at his chest and trying to keep his heartrate under control. If it went too wild, the PMT would send out a distress signal. He was so not ready to talk with the rest of his Spider Fam, at least not yet.

He leaned against the edge of the brick building for a few minutes, closing his eyes and rubbing his hands down his face. He moved across the sprawling emerald lawn once he calmed down. He reached the sidewalk, where he ran into a collection of students that belonged not to Visions Academy, but to Gwen’s version of Midtown High.

Miles sat on the curb in the bus loading zone and pulled out his laptop.

**_Miles created a Private Chat_ **

**_Miles invited Gwen to Private Chat_ **

**Miles:** It escalated. I punched him. I’m in serious trouble. I’m outside your school now.

 **Gwen:** I’ll be right there.

Shoulders immediately relaxing at her quick reply Miles closed the lid of his laptop and slipped it back in his backpack. Gwen came bursting out the front doors five minutes later. Miles stood up and opened his mouth to greet her, but found himself engulfed in a tight embrace before he could utter a word.

“Whatever he did, we’ll take care of it,” Gwen assured.

“Whatever he did? I’m the one who punched him,” said Miles, trying to keep his voice light but failing.

Gwen stepped away and studied Miles intently. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

Not finding a single mark on Miles’ face Gwen relaxed slightly. “Let’s grab some food.”

She linked arms with him and they travelled a few blocks to a pizza place. Gwen waved down Miles’ hand when he tried to pay and bought both slices. They settled in a booth near the back of the eating establishment.

Gwen decided to wait until Miles finished eating before springing her questions on him. She studied him between bites, not missing the anxious crease in his forehead or the way he shifted restlessly in his seat. His eyes were gloomy with despair. Whatever Gerry had done, it had really affected Miles.

And Gwen wasn’t going to lose another best friend to a bully. This time, if she had to get hands-on, she would.

When the pizzas were finished and the grease cleared off their fingers, Gwen asked gently, “What happened?”

Miles rested his chin against the tabletop and muttered, “It was stupid. I was trying to cut through the courtyard to get to class and he was there. He made another comment, this time about my shoes. I’ve had a hole in one of my sneakers for the past few days and he noticed. He threw a roll of duct tape at me. I was really fed up and just gave him a burn back.”

Gwen leaned forwards and asked, “What was the burn?”

A tiny smile graced Miles’ face. “I told him he needed the tape more than I did so he could take care of his unibrow.”

“ _Nice._ ”

“Yeah, I thought so. He definitely didn’t like it. I started to walk away and I heard him call me a half-breed.”

Anger, hot and fierce, boiled Gwen’s blood. “What the hell?” she said quietly.

“Yeah. You’d think I’d be used to this stuff,” said Miles bitterly. “Not the first time I’ve heard something like that. But my parents always told me to be the bigger person and ignore them. To be better than those who want to paint me as an animal and not a human being. I try. But this time…this time I couldn’t take it.”

“And you shouldn’t,” said Gwen hotly. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. As far as I’m concerned, Gerry deserved a sock to the face.”

“Maybe. But now I’m so screwed.” Miles scrubbed his hands down his face. “I just left. Took off. When I go back, I’m going to be expelled and probably arrested. No way is Gerry letting this slid.”

Gwen leaned forwards and set her hands against his shoulders. “We’re going to figure this out. Even if I have to come to your dimension, I will make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

“Get in trouble for what?”

The deep voice caused Gwen and Miles to yelp just as the backs of their necks erupted with warm tingles. Gwen twisted around to see Noir standing behind her booth, staring at the two teens with a severe expression that punctured even through his mask.

“Uh…” uttered Miles with wide eyes. “Where did you come from?”

“Answer my question,” said Noir firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s a bully problem,” answered Miles, staring at the tabletop. “I punched him and I shouldn’t have. I left the scene and I shouldn’t have. Now I’m in trouble.”

“But the jerk started it,” said Gwen determinedly. “It wasn’t Miles’ fault.”

“I believe ya, doll,” said Noir, briefly giving her shoulder a squeeze. He gave Miles and intent once-over and asked sharply, “He didn’t hurt ya?”

“Not physically.”

“What happened?”

Rubbing the back of his neck Miles said, “I might as well tell the others. I really don’t want to relive the story another four times.”

Noir settled beside Gwen and Miles typed out a quick message on his laptop. It took less than five minutes for the others to show up, clustering around the small table. Peter immediately slid into the booth beside Miles and cupped his face, frantically searching for any bruises.

“Where’d he hit you? I’ll kill him.”

“Geez, relax!” said Miles with a smile, lightly batting Peter’s hands away. “I said I hit him. He didn’t hit me.”

Miles explained the story once more and everyone listened with rapt attention. When he finished Peni’s face fell and she said, “That’s awful! How could he say that to you?”

“People are cruel,” said Noir grimly. “Don’t pay that twit any mind. He’s lucky ya didn’t do more than boff him.”

“I shouldn’t have,” said Miles miserably. “I just made everything worse. I should have been better than him.”

“You are better than him,” said Peter seriously, looping an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Violence shouldn’t be the answer, but you made a mistake. You reacted against an attack on your very being.”

“Probably learned it from his parents,” said Ham in disgust. “Prejudices are learned, after all.”

“Sure seems like a lot of people learn ‘em,” said Miles with a sigh.

Peni leaned forwards and clasped his hand from across the table. “Not us.”

“Definitely not you.” Miles grinned at them. “Thanks. I do feel better. I should get back. I’m already in enough trouble.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Peter resolutely.

“No way, man. It’s just gonna add more chaos when a supposed-to-be dead Peter Parker appears at my school.”

“Well, it would take attention off you, wouldn’t it?”

“Fair point. But still. I have to own to what I did, even if Gerry won’t own to his racism.”

“People like him hardly ever do,” said Gwen.

“Ya got this, rookie,” said Noir, giving Miles’ hair a fond ruffle. “Just let us know how it all plays out.”

Miles wrinkled his nose. “When do I stop being a rookie?”

“Never.”

“How did you find us, anyway?”

Noir tapped his PMT. “I ain’t kiddin’ when I say I check in on ya.”

“Thanks for keeping us on the straight and narrow,” quipped Gwen.

Miles smiled and stood, hefting his backpack further onto his shoulder. “All right. Wish me luck.”

“You won’t need it, kiddo. If there’s any justice, you’ll be fine. And if not, I’m coming down there and hitting stuff with my hammer until I get the desired outcome,” claimed Ham.

Peter gave Miles’ hand a squeeze. “Call me if you need me. I mean it.”

“Promise. Thank you. All of you. Sorry I messed with your perfect attendance record, Gwen.”

“It was so not perfect to begin with,” said Gwen with a scoff. “Anytime, Miles. I mean it. Anytime.”

“That goes for all of us,” piped in Peni.

“We’ll be by your side in an instant, rookie.”

Miles smiled and saluted them. “Same goes for me. Later.”

He pressed his PMT and disappeared, praying for the best.

…

 **Miles:** Good news!

 **Gwen:** Gerry is expelled!

 **Miles:** Suspended.

 **Porker:** Typical.

 **Peni:** Aw, that’s not fair!

 **Miles:** Technically I’m the one who punched him, even if he laid his hands on me first.

 **Peter B:** Doesn’t mean you deserve suspension or expulsion. They didn’t do either to you, did they?

 **Miles:** Thankfully not. When I made it back to school I went right to the principal’s office. I explained everything, and apparently, someone else had told him the same story while I was gone. A girl was sitting next to him and heard what he called me. She’s got a great reputation at school, so the principal believed her. She also told him he pushed me first. I have a week of detention, but I’m fine with that.

 **Noir:** I’m glad to hear it, kiddo.

 **Gwen:** How’d your parents take it?

 **Miles:** Super mad. Mostly because I took off without telling anyone and when the school called them to say I’d gone they were beyond worried. That was my bad. But they can see why I reacted the way I did, though they said I need to keep my emotions in check. I’m grounded for a week, but I think that’s mostly for pulling a disappearing act from school.

 **Peni:** I’m happy it all worked out for you, Miles!

 **Miles:** Yeah, me too. And I get a ten-day Gerry vacation.

 **Peter B:** If he’s dumb enough to start something when he returns give me call. I mean it.

 **Miles:** Sure, but you’re gonna have to be my second call. My dad already called dibs on having a chat with him first.

 **Ham:** What about your mom?

 **Miles:** Oh my mom is already planning to have a long chat with Gerry’s mother. If that doesn’t do anything these people are hopeless.

 **Peter B:** Did anyone have anything to say about your little feat of strength?

 **Miles:** Only the kids at the picnic table saw me do it. So everyone thinks they’re exaggerating when they I say I punched him clear across the courtyard. I was worried I broke his face but it was just his nose, so that’s a relief.

 **Peter B:** As far as I’m concerned, you handled yourself well, Miles. I’m proud of you buddy.

 **Miles:** Thanks! Next time someone tries to come after me because of my race, I’m going to walk away. Who needs to worry about jerks like that when I have you?

 **Noir:** Unless they come after you with their arms swingin’. Then ya sock ‘em.

 **Miles:** Oh yeah, obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from vacation so here's hoping my rhythm of writing isn't off.


	18. Miss Fix It

**Porker:** Does anyone know how to fix the stupid Wi-Fi?

 **Gwen:** Whose Wi-Fi?

 **Porker:** I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.

 **Peter B:** What’d you do?

 **Porker:** I didn’t do anything! It just went kaput! I’ve been stuck without Internet for three days and I can’t get the dang thing working.

 **Noir:** Call a professional.

 **Porker:** Easy for you to say! You live in a time where things cost a nickel.

 **Gwen:** Ham, he’s currently living through the Great Depression.

 **Porker:** Oh. Right. Sorry.

 **Noir:** It’s all right. How much would it cost?

 **Porker:** Over a hundred dollars.

 **Noir:** It’s going to cost you that much just to have your Internet box fixed? That’s a sham.

 **Porker:** Tell me about it.

 **Porker:** So can anyone help me or not?

 **Noir:** I believe this is a job for the rest of you fellas.

 **Gwen:** I can give it a shot.

 **Peter B:** Just try turning it on and turning it off again.

 **Gwen:** Roger that.

…

 **Porker:** My Spider-Daughter is useless. Someone else come and help me.

 **Gwen:** Hey! I gave it my best shot.

 **Porker:** I appreciate that but after four hours of tinkering you didn’t get it to work.

 **Gwen:** I’m a science genius, not necessarily a computer genius.

 **Miles:** You go out for ice-cream and you miss a crisis.

 **Noir:** I wouldn’t call it a crisis, rookie.

 **Miles:** Are you kidding? Wi-Fi going down is the worst.

 **Peter B:** Now it’s your turn to help him.

 **Miles:** Me? Why not you?

 **Peter B:** Gwen, did you try rebooting it?

 **Gwen:** Yup. Several times.

 **Peter B:** I have nothing else to contribute.

 **Miles:** Why didn’t you just contact the actual computer genius in the first place?

 **Miles:** Yo **@Peni** , if you have some free time, Ham needs your expertise!

 **Peter B:** Oh. Right.

 **Gwen:** Duh.

 **Noir:** Peni will have you sorted in a blink of an eye, Ham.

 **Porker:** Good. If I don’t get that thing fixed soon I’m taking my hammer to it.

 **Gwen:** If you don’t want to shell out money to pay a professional, I wouldn’t recommend shattering the Wi-Fi router.

 **Porker:** Play now and pay later, as they say.

 **Miles:** Not sure that saying is meant to be applied to this situation.

 **Porker:** Well taking a hammer to it and bashing out its mechanical guts would make me feel better.

 **Peni:** No mechanical bashing needed! I’m on my way!

 **Porker:** Finally! Someone competent.

 **Gwen:** You know this is how you lose friends.

 **Porker:** If you haven’t left me by now that’s entirely your fault.

…

When Peni appeared in Ham's apartment she found him standing in the middle of the living room, staring murderously at the router secured to his ceiling. "Staring at it isn't going to help matters," she chided.

“I was hoping it would sense my anger and be intimidated,” said Ham dryly.

“Technology doesn’t get intimidated,” said Peni with a laugh. “It does the intimidating.”

“I don’t think you knocked,” said Ham pointedly.

“There's no need for doors when you have a PMT,” she said cheekily. “Let’s see what the problem is.”

Peni dropped down in Ham’s computer chair and moved the mouse. The black background disappeared and was replaced with the password screen. “What is it?”

“Like I’m telling you,” scoffed Ham.

“Why won’t you tell me?” asked Peni with a wounded expression.

Ham hopped into her lap and said knowingly, “The last thing I want is for you to tell Gwen and Miles and have the three of you mess with my files.”

“I wouldn’t tell them. A computer password is sacred. And if I happen to slip up then I’ll just tell you to change it.”

“Now _that_ is far too much effort. Close your eyes.”

Peni obeyed and Ham quickly typed in the password. “All right. Have at it. You’re not allowed to leave until you fix it.”

“Did you say that to Gwen?” asked Peni in amusement.

“Yes, but then she started swearing at it and it quickly went from being funny to being sad.”

Peni clicked on the Wi-Fi icon on the laptop and sure enough, an error message popped up informing her it was unable to connect. She tried troubleshooting and, when it didn’t yield any positive results, read through the report with a thoughtful hum.

“It’s definitely not a simple fix,” she mused.

“I gathered that after the first hour Gwen was here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get your Wi-Fi back up. It may just take a little bit.”

Peni accessed the settings and started to go through the files to see if she could find anything amiss. Ham watched her fingers go rapid-speed across the keyboard and gave a fond shake of his head. He took a seat on the edge of the desk and watched her work.

“You can do something else if you want,” spoke Peni.

“I can’t abandon you when I asked you over. That would be rude.”

Peni glanced at him with a grin. “That’s oddly chivalrous of you.”

Ham lightly tapped her nose. “It’s bound to happen once in a while. Am I going to distract you?”

“No. I can multitask when I’m doing stuff like this. I’d much prefer if you stayed.”

“Good. I think this calls for snacks. I think I may have a bag of gummies with your name on them.”

Peni beamed. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Ham grabbed the candy and made some popcorn. He brought them over to Peni, who immediately tore open the brightly coloured packet and shoved some fish-shaped gummies into her mouth. “Don’t forget to floss later,” said Ham. “Noir is gonna kill me if I give you a cavity.”

“I happen to have very healthy teeth.”

Ham eyed her suspiciously. “With all the sugar you eat?”

“I have healthy teeth because of fantastic dental care,” corrected Peni with a sheepish smile.

“How many cavities?”

“I’d rather not say.”

Ham tossed a few pieces of popcorn in her direction. “I want a number.”

“Eighteen,” said Peni with a sigh. “Happy?”

“Eighteen?” exclaimed Ham. “You need an intervention. Where the heck are your fillings?”

Peni flashed a wide open-mouthed smile, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth. “Like I said, we have fantastic dental care.”

“Wait until I tell Noir you’ve had eighteen cavities.”

“No, please don’t. He’ll take away my candy stash. Eighteen isn’t even a lot.”

“Your dental bill must be horrendous.”

“Dental care is free.”

Ham stared at her for a long moment before muttering moodily, “I hate the present.”

Peni giggled and returned her attention to the computer screen. She spent several minutes reading through the data, reaching over to snag some popcorn out of Ham’s bowl every so often. Eventually she found the problem and corrected it with a few keystrokes and one more reboot.

“You’re all set!” she said cheerfully, pointing to the full bars in the Wi-Fi icon.

“Geez, that took you less than an hour.”

“Connectivity issues are easy to solve,” said Peni with a shrug. “Sometimes you just have to fiddle with the settings and check the coding.”

“You are a star,” declared Ham.

“Aw, thanks.”

“Now for your fee.”

“I don’t need a fee,” said Peni in surprise. “I’m here to help you whenever you need me.”

“I know, but I was going stir-crazy without Internet access and you saved my sanity.”

“Or what’s left of it,” joked Peni.

“Ha ha, very funny. How does a pizza and a movie sound?”

“That’s a fee I can definitely accept,” said Peni happily. “Do I get to pick the movie?”

“Sure thing, gumball.”

Ham started for the phone to order the pizza and found himself swept into an embrace. Peni rested her chin against the top of his head. “Gumball, huh? When did you come up with that?”

Though he couldn’t see her face Ham could practically feel delight radiating from her. “I don’t think about nicknames, kid,” he replied, giving her wrist a light, affectionate tap. “They come naturally in the moment.”

“Is it because I’m as sweet as a gumball?”

“Don’t go fishing for compliments. That’s my job. Now hand me the phone, will you? I’m starving.”

Peni gave Ham his cell phone and set him down. The smile still etched on her features she skipped over to his movie cabinet and started perusing the titles. Thirty minutes later, a large cheese pizza was steaming on the coffee table and a heist movie played across Ham’s television screen.

Peni and Ham cuddled on the couch, with the pig resting contently in her lap. An intense warmth swelled in her chest and she said, “I love you.”

“Love you too, Pen. Thanks for your help today.”

“Anytime.”

…

 **Porker:** Peni is now my favourite.

 **Gwen:** Geez a girl can’t fix someone’s Wi-Fi and she gets demoted? That’s whack.

 **Porker:** Take some I.T. classes and then we’ll talk.

 **Peni:** Be nice Ham. She did her best!

 **Gwen:** Thank you.

 **Porker:** Relax, I’m just messing with you.

 **Gwen:** I know. But I take my status as being your favourite very seriously.

 **Peni:** Will we have to exchange fisticuffs?

 **Gwen:** Where did you get that from? No one says fisticuffs these days.

 **Peni:** After I fixed his Internet Ham and I watched a heist movie. There were a lot of guys challenging other guys to fisticuffs. And a lot of blood.

 **Miles:** What?! Why do you get to see the violent stuff? You’re the same age as me!

 **Noir:** Ham.

 **Porker:** Peni!

 **Peni:** Whoops.

 **Miles:** Gwen does Ham let you see the mature movies?

 **Gwen:** No comment.

 **Miles:** Ham I’m coming over for movie night.

 **Peter B:** I don’t think so.

 **Miles:** Ugh for someone who is 75% irresponsible you are such a killjoy.

 **Noir:** I think you and I need to have a talk, Ham.

 **Porker:** Thanks a lot, gumball.

 **Peni:** Sorry!


	19. Rough Day

**Miles: @Peni @Gwen** Do you wanna hang with me in Peter’s dimension? I’m supposed to meet up with him for dinner but he’s working late.

 **Gwen:** How about you ditch him and we go out for dinner together?

 **Peni:** Aw that’s mean!

 **Gwen:** Okay, what if we crash your dinner plans?

 **Miles:** And Peter pays.

 **Peni:** I can live with that.

 **Gwen:** Aw yeah! Free food here I come.

 **Peni:** See you in a second!

…

Miles had just finished sticking his laptop into his bag when his Spidey Sense kicked into action. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when Peni and Gwen stepped out of the alley behind him. “Hey!”

“Hi!” chirped Peni as she skipped up to him.

“Yo,” greeted Gwen. “What’s the plan?”

Miles shrugged. “Whatever you want. We’ve got a few hours to kill. Peter said he’d message me once he was ready.”

“Why is he working late?” wondered Peni. “Doesn’t he mainly take pictures of Spider-Man for his job?”

“Yeah, but sometimes Jameson tosses him onto other projects. I guess the Bugle’s main photographer came down with the flu so Peter was roped in at the last minute to take pictures of some fancy political dinner.”

“That sounds really boring,” said Gwen feelingly.

“Oh, yeah.”

“I can’t believe people still read newspapers,” muttered Peni. “It’s so prehistoric.”

“I’m fully aware we’re the same age but sometimes you make me feel so old,” complained Miles.

“I can’t help it! I live in the 3000s! Paper isn’t really a thing.”

“Environmentally friendly. I like it,” said Gwen with a grin. “Miles, how can you feel old? There’s no way you read the newspaper.”

“Hey, those daily comics are solid,” defended Miles.

“Dork.”

“Oh shut up, Gwanda.”

“Don’t call me that,” snapped Gwen, shoving his shoulder.

“Never.”

“You two,” said Peni with a shake of her head, “always bickering.”

“It’s his fault,” Gwen said with a pout.

“I can’t help it. I love pushing your buttons,” said Miles with a snicker. “But I’m sorry. What do you want to do?”

The ire evaporated from her face and was replaced with thoughtfulness as she glanced up and down the street. They were a few blocks away from the Daily Bugle and in the heart of the city that never sleeps. “Well,” she said after a moment, “I could dig a milkshake right now.”

“A milkshake sounds great!” said Peni with a smile. “With extra sprinkles.”

“Didn’t Noir tell you to cut back on the sugar?” teased Gwen.

Peni gave her hand a dismissive wave. “What Noir doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He’s not really grasping the concept of the fact that cavities are curable and no, I will not rot all my teeth.”

“But we’ll give it our best shot,” said Gwen with a grin.

“Your teeth _will_ rot,” pointed out Miles. “We don’t have advanced dental care.”

“No, but that’s why I’ll go to Peni’s dimension and she can hook me up. Right?”

“Right,” Peni confirmed.

While all of their New Yorks had similarities, there were many differences in terms of how they were laid out. But Miles had been to Peter’s dimension so many times he could practically navigate the city blindfolded. He led his friends to the nearest ice-cream shop and nudged open the glass door, holding it open for his female companions.

“How gentlemanly of you,” said Peni as she and Gwen filed into the store.

“My mama didn’t raise a jerk,” spoke Miles, quickly checking to make sure he wouldn’t be closing the door on someone’s face before stepping aside.

“Not a complete jerk, anyway,” joked Gwen.

“Hey, everyone has character flaws.”

Peni stood at the back of the line, bouncing on her toes as she eagerly scanned the menu. “Ooh, they’ve got birthday cake milkshakes!”

“Oh, I am so for the banana cream pie milkshake,” declared Gwen.

“Terrible choices. Orangesicle is the bomb.”

Gwen glanced at Peni. “Do they give orangesicle an actual flavor name in the future?”

“No. I guess no one ever came up with a better one.”

“But that makes no sense. It doesn’t even taste like an orange.”

“It kind of does.”

“Not really.”

“It’s a dairy sugar concoction in a cup. Don’t ask questions,” said Miles in amusement. “Or just call it Creamsicle.”

“That’s so much worse.”

“If you can’t come up with a name don’t complain,” sang Peni.

“Sometimes you two are absolutely no help.”

They reached the front of the line and ordered their milkshakes. Most of the tables were occupied by families and schoolkids, but there was one booth near the storefront windows. They slid across the red vinyl seating and Gwen took a long sip.

“Ah.” She closed her eyes in contentment. “I love sugar.”

“It’s perfection,” agreed Peni. “So, how’s the day been going?”

“Basically homework,” said Miles, making an annoyed face. “I’ve got three essays due next week. This is my reprieve.”

“What a shame that hanging out with Peter is what you consider your reprieve,” piped up Gwen.

“I’m telling him you said that. And technically I’m not hanging out with Peter right now.”

“Fair point.”

Peni stirred her milkshake around in order to integrate the sprinkles. “What’s the plan for dinner?”

“Peter and I were gonna do Chinese, but I think he’ll be cool if you guys have other suggestions.”

“I’m good with Chinese.”

“Ditto,” agreed Gwen.

Their sensitive hearing picked up the roar of sirens coming from a few blocks away. Their instincts immediately put them on alert and Peni pressed her face against the window, craning her neck to try and see further down the street.

“I don’t see anything,” she reported.

Their Spidey Sense remained silent, so they didn’t think too much about it. Miles swivelled his head around to study the television screen hanging in the corner of the establishment, which displayed the news. Quick eyes scanned the headlines flicking across the bottom of the screen but nothing of interest popped up. The anchor on screen was currently talking about tips to protect against heat exhaustion for the upcoming heat wave New York was expecting so the three teens tuned out.

“It sounds like they’re getting further away,” said Gwen, and sure enough the already-distant sound of sirens was rapidly fading. “Whatever it is, it’s not near here.”

“Should we check it out?” wondered Miles with a frown.

“I don’t have SP//dr with me,” said Peni sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.

“I think it’s okay if we skip this one,” suggested Gwen. “There’s no explosions, so that’s a good sign.”

They relaxed back into their seats and continued drinking their milkshakes. They weren’t too concerned by the sirens, as they knew better than anyone that they couldn’t handle every crime that plagued the streets. It was New York, after all.

It was only two minutes later when their Spidey Sense erupted, the backs of their necks stinging urgently. Miles had only a split second to grab Peni by the waist and practically tackle her out of the booth. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Gwen flattening herself to the floor in the same manner before his vision was obstructed by a wave of shattered glass.

A gunshot echoed throughout the space and the customers screamed as four men wearing knitted animal masks jumped through the window they had just broken. Though her ears were still ringing from the boom of the gunshot Gwen managed to prop herself up on her elbows. She started to crawl towards the side, but the man wearing a tiger mask jumped down and grabbed her by the arm.

“Hey! Hands off!” she snapped. The cold metal pressed against her head and she clamped her lips shut.

“Everyone listen up!” Tiger shouted. “You’re gonna get to the floor and stay there! Anyone moves, anyone tries anything, we’re gonna kill you!”

Miles peeked up at the one holding Gwen hostage. He was wearing a bulky black backpack and he could see clumps of green peeking out through the gap where the zipper wasn’t properly closed. Peni inched her finger towards her PMT and let out a yelp as she was forcibly ripped from Miles’ protective arms.

“Let her go!” Miles cried, springing to his feet. A fist cracked against the back of his head and he fell back to his knees.

The man wearing a monkey mask grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and hauled him up. “Shut up!”

“Put your hands up!” barked the man in the bulldog mask. “We’re taking those watches.”

He had seen the way she tried to touch it and feared that she was attempting to contact someone. They had just narrowly avoided the police, but if they wanted to get out of the city, they needed hostages and a head start.

“Relax man, it’s just a watch,” spoke Miles.

“You think we’re stupid?” Bulldog growled. “Everything is smart technology these days.”

When Peni reached for her watch once more her captor pistol-whipped her. Peni slumped back slightly as immense pain ripped through her skull. The customers let out a terrified gasp and Gwen lurched forwards, but Tiger held her back.

“Leave her alone!” she snarled.

“Shut up or your next,” said Tiger. “He said to put your hands up.”

Gwen and Miles exchanged quick glances. If they didn’t do what the men asked, they were dead and they would just replace them with three more terrified customers. Mothers and fathers were hunched protectively over their children, faces pale with terror and the tense atmosphere was punctuated with shaky breathing and quiet crying.

They needed to get them out of the shop before they actively started killing people.

“Okay,” said Miles. He slowly raised the wrist holding his PMT and Monkey practically ripped it off. He tossed it to the floor, and soon Gwen’s PMT joined it. Peni was only half-conscious and Bulldog had to forcibly raise her arm in order to take it off.

“Phones too,” Tiger snapped.

Miles and Gwen dug out their phones and dropped them. Bulldog noted that Peni’s clothing did not contain pockets, so he yanked off her backpack and tossed it across the store.

The fourth man had been prowling back and forth while his companions dealt with their hostages. He aimed his gun at the cowering customers, keeping watch and making sure no one was attempting to call for help. He paid close attention to the three co-workers hunkered behind the glass counter to ensure they didn’t try to creep to the back room.

“We’re set,” called Monkey.

“Then let’s move,” ordered Bear.

“You three keep quiet,” instructed Tiger. “Or else.”

With a gun held steadily against their heads and their wrists pinned behind their backs, they were frog-marched out through the back of the restaurant. They came out into an alley, where recycling bins and trash bags were piled against the wall.

They were hustled through the alley towards a wooden fence. Gwen was now a few steps ahead of them, so Miles couldn’t get a read on what was going on in her head. Peni was right beside him, stumbling and sagging slightly as blood ran down from the gash that the pistol-whip had opened.

When they got to the street they would be surrounded by civilians. If they wanted to make an escape, they would have to do it now, in this empty alley, where the only casualties would be themselves.

Miles took a quick breath and with ease ripped his wrists from his captor’s grip. He caught the arm that was holding the gun and twisted it. Monkey yelled in pain and his finger hit the trigger, sending a bullet ripping down the alley and narrowly avoiding Tiger’s head. Miles lifted Monkey into the air and thrust him at Bulldog and the pair of them went down hard.

As Miles raced towards Peni’s side Gwen slammed her head back and caught Tiger in the chin. He reeled back and Gwen bent low, kicking out her feet and knocking him to the ground.

“Stop!” thundered Bear, advancing upon the teens with his gun raised.

“Move it!” hollered Gwen.

Miles heaved Peni over his shoulder and broke into a sprint. With her back turned Gwen discreetly sent out her webbing, catching the lid of a trashcan. She whipped it behind her and Bear managed to duck it at the last second.

Tiger and Bulldog recovered while Monkey remained out cold on the ground. Gunshots rang through the alley and Miles and Gwen flattened to the ground. The bullets whizzed over their heads and Miles kept his body protectively over Peni.

“What’s going on?” she groaned. The fog in her mind had receded slightly, though her senses were all muddled and she couldn’t distinguish anything.

“It’s okay, we’re fine,” assured Miles. “Just stay down.”

“Miles, get ready to web them,” ordered Gwen.

Miles rolled onto one side and raised his wrist just as Gwen rose to her knees. Their Spidey Sense was going haywire as another round of bullets rang out. Miles caught a glimpse of one soaring towards his face but before he could do anything, several webs rained down from the sky and caught them.

“Oh man,” he said in relief, sinking back to the ground as the harsh stinging in his neck finally smoothed into a warm tingle.

“Perfect timing,” breathed Gwen.

“Are we dead?” murmured Peni.

Peter swung over their heads and the bullets were flung back at the criminals. They hollered and dove to the ground, but they needn’t have worried. The bullets purposely flew over their heads and scattered across the ground.

“Spider-Man!” cried Bulldog.

“Shoot him!” screamed Bear.

Miles and Gwen huddled around Peni and watched as Peter swung gracefully through the air, twisting and turning to avoid the deadly projectiles. With a single flick of his wrist Tiger’s ankle was ensnared with webbing.

“You ever wonder what a bowling ball feels like?” asked Peter conversationally.

Tiger opened his mouth but did not get a chance to respond. Peter swung high into the air with Tiger soaring after him. He screamed in terror as he flew about wildly. “Don’t shoot!” he pleaded to his partners. “Don’t shoot!”

“Shoot,” hissed Bear.

Peter wrenched Tiger upwards and let him sail high into the air while he once more caught the bullets. “You’d think you’d learn.”

Peter used his webbing to tear the guns out of their hands and they were promptly clocked them upside the head with their own weapons. Bulldog went down like a ton of bricks and Bear fell to his knees, clutching his forehead. Peter reached up and caught the webbing that was still holding Tiger hostage. Ignoring the man’s screams, Peter used another strand of webbing to drag the still-unconscious Monkey over to the others.

“All right, we’re all set up.”

“Put me down!” hollered Tiger, pulling desperately at the webbing.  

His wish was granted but not in the way he’d been hoping. He found himself thrust toward the ground and he struck it hard, the momentum from the swing sending him rolling rapidly down the alley. He slammed into his companions and they all went scattering before landing in heaps.

The alley went silent and Peter landed nimbly on the ground. “And that’s how a bowling ball feels.”

“Spider-Man,” started Miles, but Peter made a shushing gesture.

“In a minute,” he said quietly. He stooped down and cupped Peni’s face. Anger roared in his blood and he took a hard breath to try and keep his emotions in reign. “Squirt, can you hear me?”

“My head hurts,” whispered Peni.

“I know. Just hold on a little longer.” He hoisted Peni to cradle against his chest with one arm. “Hold on.”

Miles held onto his back and Gwen hugged his side. Peter carefully carried them to a rooftop and set them down. Sirens shrilled in the distance and Miles could see a dim hue of blue and red. “Make sure Peni stays awake,” Peter instructed. “I’m bringing the cops to the scene and then I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” said Gwen.

Miles nodded. “Got it.”

Peter swung down from the roof and went to intercept the police car. Gwen tucked Peni into her lap and hugged her close. “You awake, Peni?”

“Yes. Does anyone have a painkiller?”

“Not on me,” said Miles apologetically. “But I’m Peter can get you one.”

“That was pretty wild,” said Gwen with a tired smile. “Can’t even get ice-cream these days.”

“It’s a messed-up world.”

“You okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not fine,” voiced Peni, cracking a tiny grin.

Miles gave a small chuckle. “We know, Pen. But don’t worry. We’re going to patch you up.” In a more rueful tone he said, “I’m sorry I let him do that to you.”

“Don’t be. It’s part of the job.”

“Though we weren’t even on the job,” muttered Gwen. “Not technically.”

“Better us than them,” said Peni optimistically. “And better me than you.”

“I highly disagree,” said Gwen passionately. “With the last part, I mean.”

“I’m just glad no one died,” said Miles, his stomach lurching at the very thought.

They sat in silence for a moment. Their minds took the time to process the events that had just occurred, analyzing every move and split-second decision. Peter returned to the roof to find them huddled together and he ripped off his mask.

His eyes were bright with concern and worry and he went immediately to Peni. He held her chin and studied the gash on the side of her head. The blood had stopped running from the wound which meant it wasn’t deep, but it still needed to be taken care of.

“Do you feel sick, squirt?”

“A little bit,” admitted Peni. “I’ve got a bad headache.”

“You will for a bit,” said Peter lightly. “But when we get to my apartment, I’ll give you something to help with the pain.” He gently lifted Peni into his arms and stood. “Put on your masks,” he advised Gwen and Miles. “We’re swinging in the opposite direction of the crime scene but we’re not taking any chances on anyone seeing your face.”

Miles and Gwen obediently dug their masks out of their pockets and jerked them on. “It’s a good thing they didn’t frisk us,” spoke Miles.

“Pfft,” scoffed Gwen. “Might have actually saved us some trouble.”

They leapt off the roof and started to swing through the streets of New York. Miles noticed that Peni’s backpack was strapped to his back and he asked, “Did you get our PMTs?”

“Yeah. And your cell phones.”

“How did you even find us?” wondered Gwen.

“I’ll tell you once we’re all settled and when my heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode in my chest.”

They arrived at Peter’s apartment in minutes and they snuck in through the window. Peter removed his mask and set Peni down on his bed. “Gwen, there’s a bottle of painkillers and a first-aid kit in the bathroom. Get a towel while you’re at it.”

Gwen quickly went to retrieve the supplies and handed them to Peter. With careful, tender fingers he wiped the blood from Peni’s face. She gave a whimper as the disinfectant stung and Peter clasped her hand. “I know, it sucks,” he murmured. “It’ll be over in a sec, Pen.”

He wrapped the wound with gauze and gave her a painkiller along with a glass of water. She chugged it down, not realizing just how thirsty she was. “Can I have some more?”

“For sure,” said Miles quickly. “I got it.”

While he went to get her some more water, Peter held his finger up in front of her eyes. “Follow my movements.”

Peni obeyed, her eyes copying the directions his finger moved. There were no delays and her vision seemed clear and alert. “How are you feeling?”

“Still a bit sick,” she replied. 

“Your healing should fix you up soon. But I’m not going to send you home until you’re fully recovered. Do you want me to get Noir?”

“I can stay here. If that’s okay with you.”

Peter’s expression softened. “Of course it is. But I’m going to let him know what happened.” He glanced at Miles when the boy handed Peni her drink. “How are you doing, buddy?”

“I’m fine,” assured Miles.

“How about you, rebel?”

“I’m good,” said Gwen. “But is it cool if I stay here for the night?”

Miles gave Peter a pleading glance. “Can I stay too?”

It was a silly question, since Peter didn’t want to let them out of his sight. “You don’t even have to ask.” He gave Miles a hug and went to embrace Gwen as well. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll order some take-out and we’ll chill for the night.”

He set Peni’s backpack down and went over to his laptop. He typed out a quick message and waited for a response.

 **Peter B: @Noir @Porker** The kids were involved in a hostage situation in my dimension. They’re okay, but Peni does have a pretty rough head injury. I’m keeping them here until I feel safe letting them out into the world.

 **Porker:** Which means they’re never leaving the house again and I’m cool with that. What happened?

 **Peter B:** Honestly, I don’t have all the details. I haven’t asked them yet.

 **Noir:** The story can wait. How is Peni feeling?

 **Peter B:** She’s fine. It’ll heal by tomorrow. We’re just going to eat and relax for the rest of the evening.

 **Noir:** That’s what they need. I’ll stop by later tonight.

 **Peter B:** You can come now if you want.

 **Noir:** Peni is in good hands. I trust you with her welfare.

 **Peter B:** Thanks, Noir. I know she’ll be happy to see you stop by.

 **Porker:** The kiddos could probably use some time to breathe before we show up and start hovering over them. We’ll see them tonight.

 **Peter B:** I’ll let them know.

Peter closed the lid of his laptop and turned to the kids, who were now clustered together on his mattress. “They’ll come visit tonight.”

“Cool,” said Gwen with a yawn.

“I’d like that,” said Peni.

“Now how does Chinese food sound?”

“Absolutely perfect,” said Miles with a smile.

Fifteen minutes later the delivery man arrived with cardboard containers of food and they watched a nature documentary as they ate. Peter kept stealing glances at Peni, who seemed exhausted but had yet to drift off. She was eating with no issues, which was a relief.

Gwen ate the last of her fried dumplings and set the empty container onto the floor. She snuggled into Peter’s side and asked, “So how did you find us?”

“There were a couple of officers at the event I was working,” he explained, raising a hand to wipe Chow Mein from his chin. “Their police scanners went off and I picked up the report. I had a feeling something wasn’t right so I tried checking your location with my PMT. I think I had a heart attack when I saw you were in the same place as the reported incident.”

“You got there fast,” said Miles in surprise.

Peter raised a brow at him. “PMT, bud.”

“Oh. Right. Duh.”

“You weren’t there when I showed up but I saw your stuff. The people inside immediately pointed towards the back entrance and told me that’s where they had taken you. I entered the alley and, well, you know what happened from there.” Peter stretched his arms over his head. “How did it all start?”

“They just shot out the window and burst in,” said Gwen with a shrug. “We barely had time to avoid being clipped apart by glass.”

“They climbed in and we were the closest people they could take hostage.” Miles picked at his fortune cookie. “Peni tried to send a distress signal but they saw what she was doing and hit her before she could even touch her PMT. They told us to take them off and so we did.”

“We didn’t handle it well at all.” Gwen frowned at her hands. “We should have acted sooner. Been quicker. They wouldn’t have hurt Peni if we just tried fighting them right away.”

“It’s my fault,” said Peni miserably. “I was down for the count almost immediately. I was useless.”

“Stop,” said Peter sharply. He wrapped his arms around them and pulled them close. “You did what you were supposed to do. You didn’t act in the ice-cream shop because…?”

“We didn’t want them to start shooting and hurting the customers,” finished Gwen.

“Exactly. You waited until you were the only ones at risk of getting hurt, which does not make me feel any better, by the way, and then you fought back.” Peter smoothed his fingers through Peni’s hair. “Squirt, you made the right choice by trying to call for help. But those jerks just happened to be aware and cut you off at the pass. That’s not on you.

“I’m glad you didn’t use the full extent of your powers. Because then you would have been exposed, and I want you to remain anonymous.”

Peni gave a snap of her fingers. “Darn. Too late for my world.”

“That’s why I want you to stay anonymous here,” said Peter firmly. “So even if you’re constantly under the spotlight in your dimension, you have five other dimensions where you’re just a face in the crowd.”

“I do like that. Thank you, Peter.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Miles rested his head against Peter’s shoulder. “For this and for coming to our rescue.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Are you going to be in major trouble with your boss?” asked Gwen.

Peter gave a snort. “When am I not in trouble with Jameson?”

“True.”

“Thanks for getting our stuff back,” said Peni gratefully. “It was not easy making those transporters.”

“No problem. But I’d rather something happen to the stuff than you.”

“Me too, but if I could have a perfect world, I’d have nothing happen to me or the stuff. Today was not quite a ‘perfect world’ day.”

“You’re alive,” said Peter softly. “That’s perfect to me.”

Peni beamed and moved to sit in his lap. “You were awesome today.”

“Seriously,” said Miles earnestly. “The whole bowling thing? Genius.”

“Catching bullets in midair is sick,” said Gwen in awe. “I’ve never bothered to try. I worry I’ll screw it up.”

“Trust in your Spidey Sense. It won’t steer you wrong,” promised Peter. “It’s definitely something you can do.” He paused for a second and added, “You know what, you three can come on patrol with me and you can practice. No trying it alone.”

“Deal,” said Miles and his friends chimed in their agreement.

The sky was just burning a reddish-orange from the setting sun as the kids drifted off to sleep. Peter kept Peni against his chest as the others slumbered on either side of him. Noir and Ham arrived an hour later and looked upon the sleeping trio with deep fondness.

“How are they?” asked Noir in a hushed voice.

“Good,” whispered Peter. “Peni’s doing well. But I’m going to wake her up every couple of hours just to be on the safe side.”

Noir gave a nod of approval. He sunk down to the mattress and held up a halting hand when Peter started to sit up. “No, she’s fine there.”

Peter smiled as Noir carefully shifted Miles into his arms. The boy immediately rolled over into Noir’s chest, his breathing steady and soft. Ham snuggled into Gwen’s arms, the girl instinctively tugging him closer. Peni’s hands were lightly curled over Peter’s shoulders and he kept his arms securely around her small frame.

Ham and Noir still didn’t have the full picture of what happened earlier that day. They could wait. With their kids safe and in their arms, that was all they needed.

…

 **Peter B:** How are you kids doing?

 **Peni:** Great! I’m all healed up. I don’t even have a scar.

 **Gwen:** Yay to super healing!

 **Miles:** I’m good! A bit put off milkshakes if I’m being honest.

 **Gwen:** Ugh, same. How long do you think this will last?

 **Peter B:** It’ll just take some time.

 **Miles:** Peni, how do you feel about milkshakes?

 **Peni:** I had one this morning.

 **Gwen:** Seriously?

 **Peni:** There’s no trauma large enough that can put me off any kind of sugar. Sugar is how I deal with trauma.

 **Gwen:** No you just have an addiction. I don’t think it has anything to do with trauma.

 **Peni:** Yeah you’re probably right.

 


	20. Sick on the Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for any inaccurate Spanish. I am hopelessly monolingual and rely on online translators.

**Peter B:** How was your day, bud?

 **Miles:** Pretty good.

 **Peter B:** Learn anything interesting?

 **Miles:** We started analyzing Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice.

 **Peter B:** I said something interesting.

 **Miles:** Shakespeare can be interesting.

 **Peter B:** Sure, when you’re with your friends and start making fun of it.

 **Miles:** Well, when I get a spare moment, we can all get together and troll Shakespeare.

 **Peter B:** If that was the highlight of your day it must have been pretty boring.

 **Miles:** Yeah, it was pretty dull.

 **Miles:** But even the dull stuff requires ten papers. Cool if we talk later?

 **Peter B:** Of course. Good luck with your homework. Give me a shout if you need help.

 **Miles:** You got it.

…

Miles closed the lid of his laptop and tiredly shoved it to the end of the top bunk. He rolled over and bundled himself deeper in his covers. His head began a slow, pulsing ache, which meant the medicine the nurse had given him earlier that day was beginning to wear off.

He hadn’t exactly lied to Peter. Shakespeare was the most interesting thing he learned today. He’d made it halfway through his Introduction to Literature class before his teacher sent him to the nurse’s office. The nurse promptly gave him some acetaminophen for his fever and a box of orange-flavoured cough drops for his sore throat.

He’d spent the rest of the day passed out, waking up only once when Ganke stopped by during lunch to give him some vegetable soup and dinner rolls that he purchased from the cafeteria. Miles wasn’t particularly hungry but grateful nonetheless. He managed to get down most of the soup and left the dinner rolls on his desk in case he regained his appetite later.

Miles let out a soft groan and pressed his fingers against his temple. The ache was steadily getting worse as if it realized it had been suppressed for the past five hours and was now trying to make up for lost time. His body quivered slightly with shivers even though his skin shone with sweat.

“This sucks,” he rasped to himself. He checked his phone, hoping it wasn’t as late as he thought it was, and his face fell when nine o’clock flashed back at him.

He’d been hoping to get better enough for his nightly patrol. But his body had other plans.

Miles bit down on his bottom lip. He knew he should stay in bed and rest, and normally he would. But there’d been a string of assaults on females walking through Central Park and the police had no leads. Five females were hospitalized in five days and Miles still couldn’t get his hands on the creep. 

The thirteen-year-old slowly eased his way out of his bunk, flinching as his head gave a fierce pound at the simple movement. Miles crept towards his desk and picked up the small plastic baggie the nurse had given him.

Students weren’t allowed to have their own medications in their dorms, with exceptions for serious circumstances. Miles couldn’t take an entire bottle of Lontyle, a popular brand of acetaminophen, with him despite how hard he tried to persuade the nurse. She’d only given him a lone extra pill to take before he went to bed with strict instructions to see her if he felt worse.

Well, he didn’t feel any better, but he really didn’t feel any worse.

Miles popped the pill into his mouth and washed it down with the remainder of his water. He didn’t plan on going out until ten, as the assaults usually took place later in the evening. It would give him several hours to do his patrol with a certain degree of comfort.

The problem with the Central Park assaulter was that he didn’t attack at one specific time. He’d find one victim at eleven-thirty and another at two in the morning. Miles never seemed to be in the park at the right time.

But that would change tonight. There would be no need to worry about getting back at decent time or fret about the possibility of falling asleep during class. If he stayed in his dorm tomorrow it would just be another sick day. He’d have lots of time to rest and recover, and with any luck the culprit would be busted.

…

Even in the dead of night Central Park was illuminated, orbs of white light glowing from the dozens of lampposts. Miles kept to the shadows and the treetops, his black Spider-Man suit making it easy to blend with the pockets of darkness. He’d been prowling back and forth through Central Park for hours and he could feel the effects of the medicine beginning to expire.

Just when Miles was beginning to lose hope, a terrified scream rang out. He immediately jumped into action, web-slinging in the direction of the scream and coming upon a burly man wearing a ski mask holding a female in a business suit to the ground.

“Gotcha!”

The man snapped his head up and found himself engulfed in webbing. His arms were pinned to his sides and he fell to the grass. His cursing was cut off as Miles swiftly webbed his mouth shut. He dropped next to the shaken brunette and helped her to her feet.

“You okay?”

“Yes.” She squeezed his hand gratefully and said in a tremulous voice, “Thank you. I know it’s stupid to be out this late, but I had no choice.”

“It’s not stupid to expect to be safe in your own neighbourhood. Are you able to call 911?”

“Yes, I have my phone.”

“I’ll be in the trees until they get here.”

She went to retrieve her phone, which she had dropped when the man ambushed her. She sent Miles a concerned glance. “You don’t sound well, Spider-Man. Are you okay?”

“Fine!” said Miles quickly. “Just peachy.”

_Just peachy? Who even says that anymore?_

But she seemed to believe him and called the police. Miles waited in the branches of the trees across from the area where the girl had been dragged and soon the police arrived on the scene. Satisfied that she would be taken care of, Miles swung his way out of Central Park.

Exhaustion seeped into his bones and Miles’ head started to pound again. His throat had been screaming at him all night and he was dying for a glass of water. He checked the time on one of the massive screens that dominated the New York buildings and saw that it was just past four in the morning.

He had stuck to Central Park all night and now he felt a bit guilty for not patrolling any other areas.

“One quick round,” he said to himself. “Just to make sure no one else needs my help.”

He fell into the motions, web-slinging through the streets. The pain in his head grew until it felt like his skull was being drilled into pieces, and his body started to shake with shivers. He tried to remember the last time he had gotten his temperature checked, but it was difficult with the fog now permeating his brain.

He was determined to push through and kept swinging, even as his entire being protested his stubbornness.

Miles had just swung into an alley when his arms gave out and he slammed into the cement. His body screamed in agony and he struggled to get back to his feet.

_Spider-Man always gets back up. Come on, Miles. Get up._

His vision blurred and twisted before everything went black.

…

It took Ham a split second to register the high-pitched alarm wailing from his PMT. It took another second to scramble out of bed, fling on his Spider-Suit and slap the screen. He appeared in a dark alley and his heart froze in his chest upon seeing the skinny frame of Miles slumped on the dirty ground.

“Miles!” He raced over to the boy’s side, shooting a hasty glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was around. “Miles, kid, speak to me.”

There was no response and four flashes of light indicated the arrival of the rest of the Spider-People. Peter practically leapt to Miles' other side and said frantically, “Bud, what’s wrong?”

“I think he’s out,” said Ham with a frown. “He’s not bleeding or anything.”

“Peni, keep look out,” ordered Noir.

SP//dr nodded and the large robot body went to stand guard at the alley’s only entrance. Ham pried off Miles’ mask and it was a great relief to all of them to hear a soft, wheezing rasp. Peter gently pressed his fingers against Miles’ forehead and he frowned sharply when he felt the heat of his fever even through his costume.

“He’s burning up.”

“Are ya tellin’ me he’s been out this late with the flu?” demanded Noir.

“Seems like it,” said Peter grimly.

“It’s not like we all haven’t done Spidey business while sick before,” spoke Gwen. When all three Spider-Dads whipped around to glare at her she hastily raised her hands in defense. “Not that I’m condoning it! It’s just a point.”

“He’s going to be fine so long as we get him back to school,” said Peter. “I’ll take him.” He hefted a limp Miles into his arms and turned a sharp look on Gwen. “We are definitely having a conversation about this when Miles feels better.”

Peter swung into the late-night sky with Miles secure in his grasp. Gwen threw her arms into the air and cried, “Why am I in trouble? I’m not the one who collapsed in the middle of New York with a fever!”

“This time,” said Peni cheekily.

“Like B said, we’ll talk about this later,” said Ham pointedly.

Peni’s giggle was quickly suppressed when Noir stared at her. “This ain’t a laughing matter.”

“I know. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry,” muttered Peni sheepishly.

“Let’s go home,” said Ham with a sigh.

Peni and Gwen hastily transported back to their dimensions. Ham rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I think I’m busy the day we have to have a talk with the kids, especially Miles, about taking better care of themselves while Spider-Manning.”

Noir rolled his eyes. “No you’re not.”

…

Peter dropped Miles off in his dorm room, where Ganke was wide-awake and on his laptop. Peter sent Ganke off to get the nurse and carefully pried Miles out of his Spider-Man suit. He found a pair of pajama pants in Miles’ dresser and putting them on Miles was like dressing a two-year-old, with the boy batting out his hands in his sleep and mumbling incoherently.

When Miles was set Peter tucked him back into his bunk and hid the costume before climbing back out the window. The nurse arrived shortly with Ganke in tow, and upon seeing Miles’ condition she promptly used the walkie-talkie strapped to her hip to radio for backup.

Miles awoke the following morning in a completely different atmosphere. He blinked blearily around and his bedroom back home came into focus. Even though his brain was in a deep fog he remembered that he had last been in his Spider-Man suit. He shoved off his blankets, only to find himself shirtless and in a pair of pajama pants.

He sagged against his mattress and gingerly touched his forehead. His fingertips touched a cold, wet washcloth.

“Mom?” he croaked. “Dad?”

His mother immediately appeared in his bedroom doorframe. “Miles! How are you feeling, mijo?”

“No muy bien,” he admitted.

“I’m going to get the thermometer—one second.”

Rio went to retrieve the thermometer and carefully slipped it underneath Miles’ tongue. A couple minutes later she took it back to read the result. “Thirty-eight degrees Celsius,” she said in relief. “It’s improving.”

“Que paso?”

“Ganke was worried about you last night and went to get your dorm’s nurse. Gracias a Dios, because you were running a high fever, mijo. You were completely out of it. The nurse managed to wake you up enough to give you some medicine and then she called your father.”

“He came to get me?”

Rio gently ran her fingers through her son’s hair. “Yes. We didn’t want you staying at school when you were so sick. I was going to take you to Emergency if your fever didn’t improve but it’s much better. I’m going to get you some more medicine and then I’ll make you some soup. How does that sound?”

“Great. Where’s Dad?”

“He went into work, but said to call him if you needed him. Te gustaria que vuelva a casa?”

“No, no, it’s okay. Thanks, Mami.”

Rio gave him some more medicine and watched him wash it down with a glass of water before going to make him some food. Miles stared at his alarm clock, which informed him it was ten in the morning. He slowly sat up and used one hand to keep the cloth against his forehead.

“What the heck happened?” he muttered to himself.

He passed out in an alley—that much he remembered. He didn’t have any memories of what happened after, but he did have some guesses.

His backpack rested next to his bed and he hoisted it into his lap. He took a peek and silently thanked Ganke for sticking his multidimensional laptop inside. He cracked open the lid and immediately found a couple of new messages waiting for him.

 **Peter B:** Let us know when you’re awake, bud.

 **Porker:** Hope you feel better soon, Picasso.

 **Miles:** Hey guys.

 **Gwen:** Dude, how are you feeling?

 **Miles:** Super tired.

 **Peter B:** That’s what happens when you’re out until four in the morning with the flu.

 **Miles:** Oh. I guess you found me, huh?

 **Noir:** We all did.

 **Peni:** The distress signal triggered when you fell unconscious. You scared us.

 **Miles:** Sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad.

 **Peter B:** How could you not realize you have a fever?

 **Miles:** I knew that. But I didn’t know it was so high. I took some medicine before I went out.

 **Porker:** Oh that makes me feel so much better.

 **Gwen:** Maybe wait until he’s actually properly better before you start yelling at him?

 **Noir:** This is not the time to defend him, doll.

 **Miles:** What’s your deal?

 **Peter B:** What’s my deal?! My deal is that we found you passed out in the middle of an alley in the late hours of the night.

 **Miles:** I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do it again.

 **Peter B:** You’re right. You won’t. We’re having a chat when you’re feeling one-hundred percent.

 **Miles:** This is enough of a chat for me, thanks.

**_Miles has logged off_ **

**Peni:** I know you guys are upset, but he’s still sick. You should have given him a break.

 **Noir:** When you kids put yourselves deliberately in danger you don’t get breaks.

 **Porker:** The fact you’re unconcerned about this makes me concerned.

 **Gwen:** I’m not unconcerned! We’re just trying to say that we know you have gone out sick once or twice, and we have too. Maybe don’t be so hard on him.

 **Peter B:** A) We get to be hypocrites because we’re the adults, B) Just because we’ve been stupid doesn’t mean we weren’t wrong or that you get to be stupid and C) Your attendance to this talking-to is mandatory.

 **Peni:** Aw man

 **Gwen:** Seriously, why am I in trouble?

…

Rio didn’t want Miles going back to school until she was certain he would make a full recovery. He spent the rest of the week at home, not that he was complaining. It would be a rough time catching up on his homework but that was a future Miles problem.

Present Miles was currently brooding about what he considered to be an overreaction from his Spider-Fam—or at least the adult members of his family. Peni and Gwen seemed to get where he was coming from.

He turned his laptop off and kept it stashed under his bed. He was too annoyed to communicate with them further and he was already dreading the chat they were going to force upon him. He tried not to think too much about it, spending most of his time resting in bed and chilling with parents.

By the weekend he was much better and the only remnant of his flu was a lingering cough. His parents dropped him off at school early so he could dive into his homework, with stern instructions to call if he started to get worse again.

Miles sat at his desk, trudging through his physics homework when the back of his neck erupted in warm tingles. A small scowl formed on his lips and without turning around he said shortly, “I’m busy at the moment.”

A black-gloved hand reached over and snapped his textbook shut. “Ya can spare a minute.”

“Nice to see you’re actually working on your homework this time,” said Peter flatly.

“Look, I’m sorry I lied, okay?” said Miles in exasperation, spinning around in his chair. Peter leaned against his window, Ham sat on Ganke’s nightstand table, Peni and Gwen lounged in the bottom bunk and Noir stood beside him. Miles locked eyes with Peter and added, “I should have told you I wasn’t feeling well. But I knew you’d react like this.”

“No, I would not have reacted like this,” countered Peter. “I wouldn’t have had a heart-attack if you told me you had the flu. Finding you unconscious in a dark alley at four in the morning, on the other hand, warrants this reaction.”

“You can’t do that to yourself, Miles,” said Ham insistently. “You have to take better care of yourself.”

“I told you I took some medicine!”

Peter threw his hands in the air. “Oh, someone give him a gold star! He took some medicine before he went out all night with a fever!”

Miles sent a pleading look at his fellow Spiderlings. “Help me out here.”

“No, I’m just here to listen,” said Gwen, tucking her knees against her chest. “I’ve already dug myself a hole.”

 “I mean, we’ve all done it once,” said Peni in a small voice. “What’s important is that he learns his lesson and doesn’t do it again.”

“Thank you Peni,” said Miles gratefully. “And I promise I won’t do it again.”

Peni clung to Gwen’s side when the three adults turned to frown at her. “I was just repeating what Gwen said last week!”

“Don’t make my hole any deeper!” snapped Gwen.

Noir rubbed the space between his eyes and let out a sharp sigh. “You kids ain’t gettin’ it.”

“I cannot wait until you have your own kids,” grumbled Ham. “See if you keep acting so flippant then.”

“There is something you are not understanding,” said Peter with a growl of frustration. “Yes. We’ve been stupid. Yes, we’ve gone out with colds and fevers and illness before. Has it ever ended well? No. It’s ended in injury and accelerated status of illness because of exertion. It doesn’t matter that we’ve all done it before. What matters is that you _understand that you could have died last night._ ”

His voice shook on the last part and Miles felt a surge of guilt at the pain he put in Peter’s eyes. He shifted his glance around the room, at the deep concern underlying Noir and Ham’s stern expressions and the dawning realization in Gwen and Peni’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” said Miles softly as his stubbornness evaporated. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I honestly thought I wasn’t as sick as I was. But when I started feeling worse, I should have come home immediately instead of staying out. I just…I wanted to do my job.”

Noir lightly set his hand atop Miles’ head. “We know. But doin’ the job when you're not at one-hundred percent often does more harm than good. Trust me.”

“I guess I can see why my comment might have been insensitive,” muttered Gwen, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. If it helps, I don’t go out sick anymore.”

“It’s a small relief, given the other stupid stuff you do,” quipped Ham, giving her ear a flick.

“We won’t go out when we’re unwell,” promised Peni.

“Ever,” agreed Miles. He sent Peter a hesitant look, as the man was regarding him silently. “I’m sorry, really. I had no right to get mad at you.” He swept regretful brown eyes to Ham and Noir. “Any of you. You were just looking out for me and I was being a jerk.”

“Nah, that’s just called hormones,” said Ham dismissively.

Peni wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

Ham hopped into Miles’ lap and the boy hugged him close. “You’re forgiven Picasso. But seriously, don’t do it again.”

“I won’t if you guys won’t.”

Peter’s eyes softened and he moved to wrap his arm around Miles’ shoulder, tugging him into a side-hug. “You scared me, bud.”

Miles rested his head against Peter’s chest. “I know. I really am sorry. Thank you for coming for me.”

“Don’t be foolish,” chided Noir, smoothing his fingers over the back of Miles’ neck. “We always will.”

“No matter what,” chirped Peni.

Peter aimed a finger at the two girls sitting on the bunk and asked, “Just to be clear, you got the point of this talk, right?”

Gwen saluted him. “Sure did. Never go out sick or injured.”

“And we won’t,” added Peni sincerely.

“Good. Now get over here.”

“This is a small chair—” began Miles nervously, but Gwen cut him off.

“Shut up, we don’t care.”

Peni scooped Ham into her arms before she and Gwen dropped into Miles’ lap. The combined weight was too much for the cheap computer chair and the wheels cracked, tipping the chair over and promptly sending the three teens and pig to the ground.

“Geez!” groaned Ham, rubbing his head. “How much do you people weigh?”

“It was clearly your fault,” said Gwen huffily. “It’s all the food you eat.”

“I am a cartoon. I don’t know if you noticed but most of the time, I’m weightless.”

Peter was busting a gut and Noir cracked a smile. “You okay?” he asked, helping them to their feet.

“Yes,” said Peni, placing Ham on Miles’ desk. “But the chair isn’t.”

“Your faces,” cackled Peter. “I wish I caught that on video. Your faces were priceless!”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “And now he’s back to irresponsible childish hobo.”

Miles ran his hands through his hair. “That’s not even mine!” he wailed. “It’s school property! They’re gonna take this out of my deposit!”

“Technically it’s your parents’ money, not yours,” corrected Peni. She yelped when Miles lunged at her and she hastily smacked her PMT, vanishing from the room. Gwen was quick to follow in her stead with a laugh and Miles rounded on the adults.

“Okay, it’s time for a new—Peter, shut up—a new talk. Tell them about the consequences of destroying personal property!”

…

 **Miles:** We have to sit on the floor now to do our homework. Thanks.

 **Gwen:** I’m telling you it’s Ham’s fault.

 **Porker:** Was not.

 **Peni:** Won’t the school just get you a new chair?

 **Miles:** Yes, but it’s going to take a week to order it. They don’t keep a stack of extra computer chairs for the dorms, Peni.

 **Peter B:** Someone is definitely feeling better.

 **Miles:** My flu is gone but my butt hurts.

 **Noir:** That looked like a hard landing.

 **Peter B:** It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.

 **Miles:** Ha ha. I gotta get back to work. Gwen, Peni, you owe me money.

 **Gwen:** Eh

 **Peni:** I’ll send you a check through the mail.

 **Peter B:** Good luck, buddy. My offer still stands. You need any help, just let me know.

 **Miles:** Thanks. Seriously, for everything. That goes for all of you. Thanks for putting up with me.

 **Porker:** It’s much easier to put up with you than B.

 **Noir:** He’s too much of a knucklehead.

 **Peter B:** Excuse me?

 **Miles:** I like it when the tables turn. Love you!

 **Noir:** Love you too, rookie.

 **Porker:** Love ya, kiddo.

 **Peter B:** I love you, bud. But you are way more knuckleheaded than I am. Just for the record.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations in order of appearance:  
> Not great.  
> What happened?  
> Thank God  
> Would you like him to come home?


	21. Little White Lie

**Miles: @Peni** Do you want to hang out?

 **Peni:** Today has been super busy, so I don’t think it’s a good time. Sorry!

 **Miles:** No prob. You need any help?

 **Peni:** No, I’m good! But thank you.

 **Noir:** What are you working on?

 **Peni:** Just fixing some bugs in the computer system and making some upgrades to SP//dr’s mech.

 **Porker:** Sounds boring.

 **Gwen:** It’s those skills that fixed your Wi-Fi, Ham.

 **Porker:** And I admire her for those skills. But I don’t know how someone can spend hours staring at a screen and going through lines of code to fix itty-bitty problems.

 **Peni:** It’s like a puzzle. I love puzzles.

 **Peter B:** You do great work, squirt.

 **Peni:** Thanks!

 **Miles:** Good luck!

…

She was going to be in so much trouble.

Peni walked aimlessly around her bedroom with one hand lightly placed over her fractured rib. SP//dr’s concern flowed though their psychic link and she used her other hand to tap its head affectionately. “I’m fine, really. My ribs will heal in a few days.”

A ball of guilt formed in her stomach. She shouldn’t have lied to her family. But admitting she had fractured ribs meant she would have to tell them what happened. Even replaying the incident in her mind caused her cheeks to turn bright red with humiliation.

The stupid eject button. She didn’t know what caused it to go off. She certainly hadn’t put her hand anywhere near it and SP//dr didn’t trigger it. She supposed when she repaired the mech after the battle at the collider, she made an error that finally showed itself.

Which only made the situation even worse. She didn’t make errors. Especially not foolish ones. Or least she hadn’t before the faulty eject button fiasco.

Peni let out a sigh and immediately flinched when her ribs pulsed with pain from the simple action. It was the second day of her injury and she had already received her daily injection. A few more and her ribs would be fully healed. She just had to get through a few more days of doing nothing.

Since she was starting to feel her ribs flare up, she took another painkiller to squash the severely uncomfortable sensation. She lowered onto her bed and rested her back against a pile of pillows to keep herself upright. She peeked at her multidimensional laptop, which rested on her nightstand, and hoped she wouldn’t be caught in her little white lie.

…

 **Peter B:** MJ is making enchiladas and she’s forcing me to invite you losers to dinner.

 **Miles:** She’s just helping you control your weight.

 **Peter B:** You are no longer invited.

 **Porker:** You know I won’t ever turn down food.

 **Noir:** Sounds like a good time.

 **Gwen:** I’m in!

 **Peter B:** Hey **@Peni** , join us for dinner. You can have Miles’ share.

 **Miles:** Hey!

 **Peni:** I’d love too, but I’m afraid I have plans.

 **Miles:** Don’t tell me you’re still busy.

 **Peter B:** It’s been three days! You’re not done your work yet?

 **Noir:** You sure you don’t want any help, sweetheart?

 **Peni:** I’m totally fine! Go and enjoy dinner! Tell MJ I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it.

…

Peni snapped down the lid of her laptop and felt her heart thud nervously in her chest. _Please don’t come please don’t come please don’t come._

There was a flash of light and Peni tried not to let the panic show on her face as Noir regarded her. It was one of the rare occasions where he was without his mask and the thick lenses of his glasses glimmered at her.

“Hey,” said Peni with as much cheerfulness as she could muster. “What’s up?”

“Just checkin’ in.” Noir studied Peni, his brow creased slightly with concern. “Ya haven’t been workin’ too hard, have ya?”

_I haven’t been working at all._

“No,” said Peni, hoping she sounded convincing. “Seriously.”

Noir’s eyes flicked around the room and zeroed in on the bottle of painkillers resting on her dresser. Peni’s heart froze in her chest as he wandered over to pick up the container. He stared at the date on the prescription label and then at the date on her holographic calendar.

“This is new,” he said, and even though his voice was calm Peni could practically feel the thunderstorm brewing. “Ya got it at the beginning of this week. Right around the time ya said ya were too busy for Miles.”

Peni’s throat went dry. It had been rather stupid to think she could pull anything past a seasoned private detective. “Um…” was all she could squeak.

Noir strode over to her bedside and loomed over her. He registered the stack of pillows she was using to support herself and growled, “What happened?”

“I fractured a rib,” confessed Peni, wishing her pillows would swallow her as Noir’s scowl deepened.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?” he demanded.

His girl was fine, that much was clear, and the concern for her wellbeing was quickly overcome by anger at her deception. “It doesn’t matter,” she said stubbornly. “I’m fine. My ribs will be completely healed in two more days.”

“That ain’t the point! Ya lied.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” whispered Peni. The anger and disappointment in Noir’s voice caused tears to build in her eyes. She grabbed a pillow and pressed it over her face.

Noir gave a sharp sigh, rolling his shoulders back against the tension that was starting to gather. “I’ll be back. Don’t move.”

He tapped his PMT and vanished. Peni was tempted to go somewhere, anywhere, to avoid the oncoming conversation but knew that would be about as stupid as the reason she received her injury in the first place.

“Are you kidding me?” bellowed Peter the second he appeared in her bedroom. When she only hugged her pillow closer and didn’t respond, he bent over and ripped her feeble attempt at a shield from her small hands. A tearful face was revealed and though Peter’s heart wobbled he remained firm. He jabbed a finger at her and said, “Nuh-uh! Those tears won’t break me. What did we talk about last week?”

“About properly taking care of ourselves,” said Peni miserably. “And I did! I’m not sick and I haven’t done anything since I fractured my ribs. Okay?”

“No, not okay,” said Ham in exasperation.

“Why didn’t ya call us when it happened?” asked Noir seriously.

Peni pursed her lips together and rolled onto her side, despite knowing it wasn’t the best position for her healing ribcage. “I don’t know,” she said quietly.

Strong hands gripped the sides of her face and gently but firmly forced her to make eye-contact. Noir brushed away the lingering tears on her cheeks and said softly, “Yes ya do.”

“It’s just so stupid,” muttered Peni.

She didn’t elaborate and Gwen said softly, “We’re not going to laugh, Pen.”

She shot a warning look at Ham and Peter, and the cartoon pig said in offense, “I would never! Not when it’s a serious kind of stupid, anyway.”

“I don’t think that makes sense,” said Miles with a furrowed brow.

“Peni’s turn to talk,” interjected Peter when Ham opened his mouth to no doubt launch into an explanation of his logic. “Go ahead, squirt. Gwen’s right. We won’t laugh.”

Peni took a nervous breath before ploughing through her story as fast as possible. “I was fighting a robber and somehow the eject button triggered. I was sent flying from SP//dr and when I hit the ground the impact cracked one of my ribs. It wasn’t even the baddie who hurt me. He was laughing so hard that he didn’t even try to come after me and—ugh, it’s so humiliating.”

Her face turned red and she expected at least a chortle or two. But Noir pulled her into his lap and said in bafflement, “Ya think that’s embarrassin’? I was chasin’ a thug across the rooftops and I mistimed my jump. Landed right in the alley. Nearly gave myself a concussion.”

“Do you know how many times I've looked like an idiot?” asked Peter with a raised brow.

“I don’t think there’s a number high enough,” said Gwen with a snicker.

Peter elbowed her in the side. “A lot. I crashed into Rockefeller Center’s Christmas tree one year. I’m pretty sure New York City still hasn’t forgiven me.”

“I was trying to stop a bank robber but accidentally webbed up the police car in pursuit,” spoke Gwen with a flinch. “The aftermath of that wasn’t pretty.”

“I thought I was rounding up a criminal gang. Turns it out it was just a ski club getting ready to go on a trip. But it was their fault. Everyone knows if you’re wearing a black ski mask, you’re automatically the enemy,” said Ham with pout.

Miles spread his arms wide. “My entire first two days as Spider-Man.”

“You were learning, Miles,” insisted Peni. “That doesn’t count.”

“We never stop learning, squirt,” said Peter. “That’s why we still mess up. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it’s just humiliating. But we learn.”

Miles squinted at him. “It’s weird when you get all wise.”

“But he has a point.” Noir shifted Peni around so she was looking at him. “Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter how ya get hurt. What matters is that ya tell us and don’t try to hide it.”

“We’ll keep having this conversation as many times as it takes,” said Peter pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You kids are too hard-headed for your own good.”

“You are not one to talk,” said Miles with a snort.

“I’m sorry,” said Peni, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I guess I was worried you might think less of me.”

“Of course not,” said Ham in surprise.

“Well, I think less of me,” said Peni bitterly. “I don’t make mistakes.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, doll,” said Noir softly. “Humans ain’t perfect.”

“Pigs aren’t either,” added Ham.

“What is it you’re always saying, Peni?” asked Gwen, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and clasping her hand. “Human error is…”

“Timeless,” finished Peni with a small smile.

“I know you’re used to having everything go right, but sometimes things go wrong, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Peter went over and tousled her hair. “When you start to feel that way, you talk it out.”

“Thank you.” Peni’s smile brightened as she regarded all of them. Warmth and happiness enveloped her, and their comforting meant more than she could express. “I’m sorry for lying. I’ll try hard not to do it again.”

“We will too,” added Miles with a sheepish grin.

“Why do you kids feel the need to lie anyway?” asked Ham in bafflement.

Gwen shrugged. “Teen stubbornness, I guess? Because we think we’re right, or we think we can handle whatever it is on our own.” She paused for a second before saying softly, “And we worry about disappointing you.”

“That’s a biggie,” confessed Miles.

“Let’s get something straight,” said Peter, staring at the three Spiderlings intently. “Sometimes you may disappoint us. But that disappointment fades. We won’t ever stop loving you. That only gets stronger. I need you to believe that.”

“We do,” said Miles with a broad smile. “Our brain just conveniently forgets it sometimes.”

“Ya good?” Noir asked Peni, giving her chin a fond tickle.

The girl giggled. “Yeah. I am. I feel much better.”

“Good.” Noir lifted her up and passed her to Peter, who carefully held her in a way that wouldn’t agitate the condition of her fractured ribs. “Ya fellas ready to eat?”

“You know it,” said Ham immediately.

“Grab her medicine for me, bud,” Peter directed at Miles.

Miles snatched up the painkillers and Noir started out of the bedroom. Peni’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and she called, “Where are you going?”

“To get your candy stash. You’ll get it back in a week.”

“No! Noir!”

“Oh man, that sucks,” said Miles with a snicker.

Peter gave the boy a warning look. “You know, I can still punish you for your little stunt with the flu last week.”

Miles paled. “Shutting up.”

Peter smirked at his reaction and said, “Guess this means you won’t be able to have MJ’s strawberry shortcake, squirt.”

“I call her share!” shouted Ham.

“Aw, man,” said Peni with a groan. “I hate consequences.”

…

 **Noir:** Question.

 **Porker:** Fire away!

 **Noir: @Peni** hasn’t been pestering me about her sweets for the past couple of days. Is there a reason why?

 **Peni:** I’ve realized that this punishment is deserved. Also Miles and Gwen have been sneaking me candy.

 **Miles:** Peni!

 **Gwen:** What do you want her to do? Lie?

 **Peter B:** Miles.

 **Porker:** Gwen.

 **Miles:** Dang it.

 **Gwen:** I willingly hand over my pitiful candy stash.

 **Porker:** I’m thinking more along the lines of your headphones.

 **Gwen:** NO

 **Miles:** Does that mean I’m losing my spray paint?

 **Peter B:** Yup. That sound fair, Noir?

 **Noir:** Very fair.

 **Peter B:** Don’t overthrow parental authority, kiddos. It doesn’t end well.

 **Gwen:** Noted.

 **Miles:** Aw man.

 **Noir:** I’m holding your candy hostage for an additional week, sweetheart.

 **Peni:** Rats!


	22. Off the Grid

**Porker: @Gwen** It’s been days since I last heard from you. Can you at least sound off so I know you’re not dead?

 **Noir:** The kids have been strangely quiet this week.

 **Peter B: @Miles @Peni** Are you dead?

 **Porker:** They’re not answering.

 **Noir:** The PMT says they’re at their respective homes.

 **Peter B:** It’s almost the end of the school year. If I had to guess I’d say they’re drowning in exam prep.

 **Noir:** Ah. That makes sense.

 **Porker:** So they are dead. Just on the inside.

…

 **Miles:** Not dead.

 **Peni:** Also not dead.

 **Peter B:** That response was only three hours late.

 **Miles:** Sorry man. It’s been the worst week. I hate exams.

 **Peni:** I’m so tired.

 **Noir:** You’ll truck through them, sweetheart. Just be sure to get your sleep.

 **Miles:** Sleep? What sleep? I’ve got final papers to write on top of exam prep on top of two more days of school.

 **Peni:** That’s terrible. I finished my last day of class a couple days ago.

 **Miles:** Ugh lucky

 **Miles:** Are essays still around in the future? Or are they outlawed?

 **Peni:** I wish. I can do calculus for days but writing an analyzation of the symbolism in Shakespeare? Forget it.

 **Miles:** SHAKESPEARE IS STILL A THING IN THE YEAR 3145?!

 **Peni:** The American school curriculum has made many drastic and revolutionary changes. But they just won’t get rid of that guy.

 **Peni:** And my essay isn’t going to write itself. Sorry I can’t talk, but I have very little time to spare until exams are over.

 **Porker:** I don’t suppose you heard from Gwen?

 **Peni:** No, sorry. But I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure she’s in the same hoverboat as us.

 **Miles:** Exam season sucks.

 **Peter B:** Good luck, bud. I’ll see you on the other side.

 **Miles:** Here’s hoping.

 **Noir:** Don’t work yourselves too hard.

 **Peni:** I’ll try.

**_Miles has logged off_ **

**_Peni has logged off_ **

**Peter B:** I’m sure Gwen is fine, Ham. High school isn’t kind when it comes to exams.

 **Noir:** I thought school was all wet when I went. Now it sounds even worse.

 **Porker:** Society says school is meant to help you and all they do is try to kill you. Go figure.

…

Ham tried to combat the anxiety building in his chest by distracting himself. He tried watching television, reading a book and taking a walk. But the fresh air did nothing to alleviate the pressure around his heart and he finally gave in and smacked his PMT. He appeared in Gwen’s bedroom and did a sweeping glance of the purple and pink space.

The covers on her bed were rumpled and messy. Books and papers were scattered across the carpeted floor, but none of them seemed to be school related. Her regular laptop was gone but her multidimensional laptop rested on her desk. Ham’s brow furrowed and he tapped on his PMT, bringing up the location screen. A glowing red dot indicated Gwen’s position but as far as Ham could tell, Gwen was not where her PMT said she was.

“What the heck?” he muttered. Her adjoining bathroom door was ajar and he gave it one quick knock. “Gwen? You in there?”

There was no response and he nudged it open. His eyes zeroed in on the purple metal band resting on the white porcelain counter and his vision blurred with intense panic. He took a few shaky breaths to try and calm the pounding of his heart.

_Relax. This doesn’t mean something bad happened._

But it was difficult to counter his worries when he knew none of them have taken off their PMTs since Peni had given the devices to them. The bands were waterproof and comfortable, and there were few reasons to remove it from their wrists.

“All right, get it together Porker,” he snapped, giving his face a sharp slap. “It’s exam week. If she’s going to be anywhere, it’s going to be the library.”

There were ninety-two library branches in New York City, and several of those existed in the surrounding area of Gwen’s house. Ham knew he wouldn’t be at ease until he found the girl, so he went home to pull on his Spider-Suit before returning to Gwen’s dimension.

He started typing the coordinates to nearby libraries into his PMT. He snuck in through windows and slipped under the cracks in the doors. When he was inside, he crawled along the ceiling, surveying the hordes of students and trying to find the familiar head of short blonde hair.

Despite what Peter had initially thought, their Spidey Sense didn’t automatically lead them to their fellow Spider-People. When Miles needed help after getting injured by Hobgoblin Peter had already been informed of his location. Once Peter arrived in the vicinity of Miles, his Spidey Sense kicked into gear and finished guiding him.

Ham didn’t have the luxury of knowing Gwen’s location. He would be alerted when he was close, but they still weren’t sure of the exact radius that caused their Spidey Sense connection to activate.

Every time he came up empty the vice-grip on his heart grew stronger. There was a hard ball of fear and worry in his gut. His mind raced with a thousand nasty thoughts, unbidden images of all the horrible scenarios that could have happened to Gwen forming crystal-clear pictures.

Kidnapped.

Injured.

Shot.

Trapped.

Dead.

The last one nearly robbed him of air but he forced himself to keep breathing. In through his nose, out through his mouth.

He appeared at the seventh library in his list, standing on top of an arching glass ceiling with metal beams. Immediately the back of his neck erupted with warmth and all the tension fled from his body, causing him to sag with complete relief.

Down below, seated at a thick mahogany desk with textbooks, papers and her laptop surrounding her, Gwen’s back straightened from its hunched position. She darted her gaze back and forth before rolling her chin upwards. Blue eyes widened with surprise as she registered Ham staring back at her. She hastily waved him away from the glass but Ham smacked the screen of his PMT and appeared directly beside the girl.

“You’ve got some explainin’ to do, missy!”

Gwen frantically clapped a hand over his mouth and shoved him under her table as dozens of eyes turned towards the direction of the outburst, which echoed in the high-ceilinged space. Gwen trained her gaze steadily on her laptop even as Ham wiggled madly in her grip. Disgust ran down her spine when he attempted to lick her hand but she refused to let go.

When the attention diverted Gwen ducked under the table. “Are you crazy?” she hissed.

She finally removed her hand and wiped her palm against her black jeans. Ham glared at her and jabbed her in the chest. “Am I crazy? You’re the one who left your PMT at home!”

Gwen frowned in confusion and stared at her wrist. It was a genuine shock to see that it was bare and she grimaced. “Whoops. My bad. Sorry.”

“Do you know how many libraries I searched?” demanded Ham. “Way too many. Some of them had filthy windows and I had to crawl through them.”

His limbs were trembling and Gwen didn’t miss it. She was suddenly aware that she had unintentionally scared him and felt a curl of guilt in her chest. “I think we should probably take this conversation somewhere else,” she said softly.

Ham let out a long breath and rubbed the back of his neck. He was now acutely aware of the fact they were huddling under a table in the middle of a public library. “Right. Uh, I’ll grab your PMT.”

“Thanks.”

As he went to retrieve her transporter Gwen quickly collected her books and papers, shoving them into her backpack. She tucked her laptop under one arm and Ham reappeared. Gwen strapped the purple metal band to her wrist and together they transported to her bedroom.

Gwen tossed her laptop onto her computer chair and dropped the rest of her items unceremoniously to her floor. She lowered to sit on the edge of her bed and carted her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry about forgetting my PMT,” she said, this time with more sincerity. “A girl has got to clean her wrist once in a while and I guess I was so preoccupied with school that I didn’t realize I didn’t put it back on.”

“It was an accident,” acknowledged Ham with a sigh. “When I came to check on you and saw it sitting there, I freaked.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you,” said Gwen feelingly. She slid off the bed to be next to him and folded her knees against her chest. “The fact that I’ve been MIA this week does not help matters.”

“Miles and Peni checked in a few hours ago. They were drowning in studying. I should have known you were doing the same.” Ham, as a cartoon character, rarely felt ridiculous. But the intensity of his overreaction caused him to feel tremendously stupid.

Gwen saw it on his features, the annoyance and embarrassment directed at himself, and she pulled him into a hug. “If I came to visit you and I noticed you left your PMT behind, I would react in exactly the same way,” she promised. “That’s the thing about panic and anxiety, right? Logic has no meaning to them.”

“Tell me about it.” Now that the negative emotion had drained from his body Ham felt exhausted. But the relief shone in his heart, reassured that his girl was safe. “I wouldn’t worry so much if you didn’t have Spider-Woman responsibilities.”

“Then I wouldn’t have met you and the others,” countered Gwen. “That’s worth every bit of danger that comes with being Spider-Woman.”

Ham set his hand against her cheek with a smile. “Ditto, rockstar. Sorry for barging into your study session. But seriously.” He poked her nose with his finger. “Be a little more diligent with your PMT. I don’t want to entertain the thought of losing you.”

“I will. Thanks for coming to check on me.”

“No thanks necessary. It’s part of the dad gig.”

Gwen grinned. “You’re pretty good at it.”

“Thanks. You could be better at the daughter part,” joked Ham.

“Pfft, whatever.” Gwen playfully pushed him away and climbed back into her bed, where she collapsed against her pillow. “Actually, I’m glad you came and got me,” she said with a yawn. “I’ve been going over my history textbook all day. I was starting to feel like I was actually living during the Civil War.”

“Least I don’t have to worry about you not taking school seriously,” said Ham in amusement. “Actually, I’m beginning to worry about you taking it _too_ seriously.”

“I know. I’m a weird kid. Wanting to do good at school? Blah.”

Ham sat on the pillow next to her head and lightly ran his fingers through her blonde hair. “Take a nap, kiddo.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” said Gwen sleepily.

She dozed off a few minutes later, with Ham watching over her, her gentle, rhythmic breathing one of the greatest sounds he’d ever heard.

…

 **Gwen:** Yo I am also alive.

 **Peter B:** You’re only, what, twenty-four hours late?

 **Gwen:** I was hunkered down in the library and I didn’t have my laptop. Or my PMT, actually.

 **Peter B:** Please tell me you’re joking.

 **Noir:** You got to be more careful, jitterbug. If something happens how are we supposed to help you?

 **Gwen:** I know, I know. I already promised Ham I’d be more diligent. I extend that promise to you guys.

 **Peter B:** That makes me feel slightly better. These PMTs are part of the reason I can sleep at night. Don’t take them off unless you have to.

 **Gwen:** Gotcha.

 **Porker:** Try to wait a few months before you give me another heart attack.

 **Gwen:** I will try very hard but I make no promises because I am a human who makes mistakes.

 **Gwen: @Peni @Miles** You dead?

 **Miles:** Only emotionally.

 **Gwen:** Dude me too.

 **Peni:** I HATE SHAKESPEARE. WHY IS HE STILL A THING? I DON’T CARE ABOUT MACBETH’S AMBITIONS OR HOW THE WITCHES INFLUENCED HIM. I DON’T WANT TO BE IN ADVANCED CLASSES ANYMORE

 **Noir:** Oh boy. I’ll be over in a sec, sweetheart. I think you need a break.

 **Porker:** Miles, Gwen, are you close to falling apart at the seams?

 **Gwen:** That nap was really refreshing so I’m good.

 **Miles:** A nap? When do you have time to sleep? I’ve been running on soda and slushies for two nights. I can’t remember the last time I ate. I have a paper and a lab left to do. And I still have school tomorrow! WHEN AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP?

 **Peter B:** All right. You also need a break. Come to my place.

 **Miles:** But my work!

 **Peter B:** Now, Miles.

 **Miles:** Ugh, fine. But only for five minutes.

 **Porker:** You want some help studying, rockstar?

 **Gwen:** Sure! You can help me with my flashcards.

 **Peter B:** I am so glad school is no longer a thing for me.


	23. Cat and Mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the final stretch! Two chapters left. Thanks for sticking with me thus far!

**Noir: @Miles** If you see this get your behind to school.

 **Peter B:** Damn, I’ve got a meeting in two minutes with Jameson. I can’t go after him.

 **Porker:** He planned that well.

 **Peter B:** He got lucky.

 **Noir:** His luck is about to run out. I’ll go talk to him.

 **Porker:** Ooh he’s in trooooouble.

…

Sitting in the food court of a mall in Gwen’s dimension, Miles leaned back in the plastic chair as he took a bite of his breakfast burrito. There were mostly adults in the mall that morning and Miles felt uneased at being the only kid in the place. If no else was brave enough to cut class, did that mean he was making a really stupid mistake?

_Gwen has exams this week, not class. That’s probably why it’s so quiet right now. They’ll start pouring in after they finish writing._

This attempt at logic caused him to relax. He knew he would catch a mouthful from his parents when Visions Academy reported his lack of attendance, but that was a later problem. The phone calls didn’t go out until after school and he would just tell them the truth. That he felt tired, exhausted, burnt out, and he could not handle the last school day. After a week of sitting in class being plied with exam prep materials and completing his final projects, he felt like he was going to break under the pressure.

Or maybe he wouldn’t tell them that part. His dad would probably just tell him that to buck up and truck through the last stretch. He valued hard work, and Miles respected that. It was perseverance that helped him become Spider-Man, after all, and he had a newfound respect for it. Ever since then he tried not to give up.

But Miles just couldn’t keep going. Not today.

The self-doubt started to grow and but he ignored it, as he had been doing for the past couple of days. He gave his head a slight shake as if that would rid himself of his negative thoughts and returned to his burrito, devouring it in the next three bites. The heavy amount of grease and salt soothed his mood somewhat and he stood up to discard his trash.

He wiped his hands on his jeans before digging his multidimensional laptop out of his backpack. He spared two second to check the messages, not wanting anyone to catch him being online. His heart jumped in his throat upon spotting Noir’s final message.

“Shoot!” he hissed, frantically closing the lid. “It’s only been two hours!”

How often did Noir check their location status anyway?

“This is going to get tricky,” he muttered.

He had expected Peter to confront him. Not Noir. Noir was a bit like Jefferson—old school and old fashioned. Which he supposed made sense, since the monochromatic man was from the 1930s. Convincing Noir to leave him alone was going to be difficult.

_Backup plan. I need a backup plan._

His Spider-Man suit was in his bag. Maybe, just maybe, he could outrun him.

As Miles rose from his chair the back of his neck hummed with a pleasant warmth and he whirled around. Thankfully, Noir wasn’t a difficult person to find, and Miles spotted him standing on the second-floor balcony above the food court. He was surveying the people below and Miles peeked over his shoulder.

The bathroom was close. He could make it.

Miles turned on his heel and started walking towards the bathroom. He tried not to rush, hoping that if he pretended that he hadn’t seen Noir the man wouldn’t feel a reason to hurry.

That strategy disintegrated when he heard the familiar _thwip_.

He broke into a run and refused to look behind him. His Spidey Sense heightened and he slid to the ground, narrowly missing Noir’s outstretched hand. He heard Noir curse as he swung past and Miles couldn’t help but grin.

_Actually…this might be fun._

He made it to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall. He ripped his suit from his bag and struggled out of his clothes. The bathroom door slammed open just as he was pulling the bottom part of the black suit over his boxers and he hastily moved to stand on top of the toilet so Noir wouldn’t be able to see his feet.

“Occupied,” he said innocently when his stall door rattled from the knock.

“Miles, get out here.”

“Dude, do you mind? I am trying to do my business here.”

“What you’re doin’ is makin’ me bent,” growled Noir. He was half tempted to break the flimsy door off its hinges but refrained. “Ya got school, Miles.”

“It’s the last day, man. It’s all review and nothing new, so it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s gonna go on your record, so it does matter.”

Miles made a face. “My record can handle a few marks. I need a break.”

“A break from what?”

“School! Aren’t you listening?”

The flippant reply caused Noir’s eyes to narrow. “Ya got five seconds to get out of there. Don’t make me come after ya, boy.”

Adrenaline surged through Miles’ body and he jerked his mask over his face. He quietly slipped his backpack over his shoulders and snapped his PMT back over his wrist. “Catch me if you can,” he returned before smacking the screen.

There was a flash of light and he was gone. Noir was stunned by his disobedience for only a few seconds before he went into action. He promptly checked Miles’ location and gave the kid a little credit for being wise enough not to switch off his location setting.

Miles was currently in Time Square in his home dimension and Noir went after him. He appeared amongst the glowing, mega-sized screens and his eyes zeroed in on the thirteen-year-old, who was standing on top of a screen advertising a soda brand.

Miles raised his hand in salute before web-slinging his way up the skyscraper. He used the momentum to spur himself further up the vertical complex and shot a glance over his shoulder. His heart stuttered when Noir was nowhere in sight. His Spidey Sense informed him that Noir was still nearby and Miles kept his gaze alert as he continued his way up the building.

Noir came veering around the right side and Miles let go, dropping into a free-fall. He twisted his body and aimed his webbing at a building across the way and started swinging through the streets. Noir jumped after him in pursuit.

“Ya got some nerve, punk!”

“Thanks! I try!” Miles called back cheekily.

The energy rushed through him, overriding the instincts that were trying to scream at him that this was a Bad Idea. He wound his way around cars and buses and arched over buildings. The bystanders watched with wide eyes as the two Spider-Men sailed overhead.

Miles kept looking over his shoulder and felt a burst of panic when Noir was beginning to catch up. He made a sharp left turn and headed towards the closest train tracks. A grin spread across his face when one rumbled down the line.

_Perfect timing._

Miles webbed the train and was immediately pulled along in its path. The wind roared past him and he used it to flip himself on top of the train. “Boom! Nailed it.”

Noir landed a few feet away. “End of the line,” he said warningly. “Knock it off, rookie.”

“Actually, this is your stop,” advised Miles. “Heads up!”

An above-ground tunnel loomed into view and Miles flattened to the roof of the train. He was small and thin enough to fit in the narrow gap between the top of the train and the top of the tunnel, but Noir was too tall and large.

Noir jumped off the train and swung to the top of the tunnel as Miles disappeared into the darkness. A grin found its way across Noir’s face despite his annoyance. “Damn. He got me.”

But not for long.

Noir dropped down to the street, ignoring the cars that slammed on their brakes and the furious wail of their horns. He created a slingshot with his webbing and launched himself in the direction the train was heading.

The extra momentum gave him a burst of speed and he kept it going with continuous web-slinging. He made it to the other end of the tunnel before the train. He stood on top and waited patiently for the public transit to come through. The surface beneath his feet vibrated, signalling the rapid arrival, and soon the metal contraption roared into view.

Noir nimbly dropped down to where Miles was still crouched and the boy let out a startled shriek. “How did—where did you—what the heck?!”

“Ya ain’t slick, son.”

Miles’ eyes widened and he tried to roll off the train, but Noir webbed his back and pulled him into the air. The world flipped upside down and if he hadn’t been web-slinging for months, the sensation might have turned his stomach.

People down below were snapping pictures with their phones and Miles suddenly felt like a child in a harness being led along by their mother. He was sorely tempted to try and escape but knew that the game was over. Noir had caught him, fair and square.

They reached the roof of a building and Noir gave the webbing a hard yank, sending Miles upwards. He let out a shout of surprise at the unexpected motion and Noir caught the boy by the waist before he smacked into the concrete.

“Uh…good game?” said Miles feebly when he was set to the ground.

He shrunk back as Noir loomed over him. “You’re in hot water, rookie.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Miles removed his mask and rubbed a hand down his face. With his features exposed Noir could make out the dark bags under his eyes. His posture relaxed slightly and he eased into a sitting position. He motioned for Miles to sit next to him.

“All right, rookie. Ya don’t look well. What’s wrong? Too much homework?”

“Partly,” muttered Miles. “I mean, I had homework at my old school. But nothing like it is at Visions. There’s homework every day for every class and the assignments are twice as hard. I’m just not—”

He cut himself off and Noir raised a brow. “You’re just not what?” he prodded.

“I’m just not smart enough,” confessed Miles.

“That’s dingy,” said Noir with a scoff. “Ya wouldn’t be at that school in the first place if ya weren’t smart. Ya passed the entrance exam, right?”

“Yeah. But it just feels like I’m behind everyone else.”

“How did ya feel at your old school?”

Miles blinked and tilted his head slightly to the side as he thought about Noir’s question. “I felt fine. I fit in really well.”

“And the work?”

“It was okay. It was manageable.”

“Were ya the smartest kid in your class?”

“Yeah.”

“So ya were the top dog in your old school but now that you’re among a pack, it’s harder to stand out. Doesn’t mean your behind. Just means now ya have to put effort into keepin’ up with the rest of them.”

“I guess so,” said Miles in surprise. He’d never really considered it before, but it had been a breeze to be the head of his class when most of his peers didn’t particularly care or put in the effort. But at Visions, everyone wanted to be the best. He had gone from being a big fish in a small pond to a small fish in a big pond, and he still hadn’t gotten used to it. “But they make it seem so effortless. Ganke can type up a paper at two in the morning and get practically perfect on it. It takes me days to do those things.”

Noir shrugged. “And I’m sure there are kids who take a week. It doesn’t matter how long a project takes, Miles. What matters is the quality of the finished product.”

The thirteen-year-old processed Noir’s words and smiled. “Well, I have been doing pretty well, and I’ve lasted this long. Thanks, man. I’ve been super stressed lately and I guess I really started to doubt my place there.”

“I guarantee most kids, if not all of them, at your school are as stressed as you are,” said Noir. “Ya belong there, rookie. You’re clever. That move with the train was nifty.”

Miles grinned broadly. “I’m pretty proud of that one.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” said Noir in amusement. “Ya ain’t pullin’ one over me again.”

“We’ll see,” said Miles with a smirk. He climbed to his feet and checked the time. “I can make my afternoon classes if I head out now.”

A black-gloved hand fell over his PMT and Miles glanced at Noir in confusion. “You wanted a rest day, you’ll get a rest day,” spoke Noir. “But a proper one. You’re comin’ with me to my place.”

Miles was definitely not going to argue, because school was still the last place he wanted to be. He transported to Noir’s home and the man jerked his chin in the direction of the bathroom. “Get changed.”

The boy turned towards the restroom and yelped when a sudden, hard swat landed on his backside. “Ow!” He shot a wounded look at Noir. “Okay, fine, I deserved that.”

“Ya deserve more than one,” said Noir flatly. “But today I’m givin’ ya a break. Stress wasn’t makin’ ya think straight.”

“Definitely stress,” said Miles quickly, turning on his heel and walking backwards. “Stress makes me go crazy. Won’t happen again.”

“Mmm-hmm,” said Noir in amusement. “Right. Next time, just tell me what’s wrong instead of makin’ me go through a whole song and dance.”

“I will, yes. Absolutely.”

Miles went into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later wearing a hoodie and jeans with his costume slung over one arm. Noir had removed his mask and goggles and there were two cups of tea sitting on his coffee table. Miles dropped down on the couch and gave a grunt at the solid sound the cushion made.

“Dude, how do you sit on this thing?”

“I don’t. Not often, anyway.”

Miles picked up a mug and took a cautious sip. The brew was more bitter than what he was used to but it wasn’t unpleasant. He took another, longer drink and said sheepishly, “Uh, sorry if I crossed a line today.”

“Nah. Ya ran your mouth, but nothin’ too disrespectful. I wouldn’t be so easy on ya if ya were. If I’m bein’ honest it was a swell time.”

“I had fun too. Well, up until you caught me. Then I was terrified.”

“Good. That means ya have some sense. Maybe next time ya won’t try to challenge me.”

“Man, if I do, then shame on me for not learning the lesson,” said Miles feelingly.

He finished his tea and Noir turned on his radio. Soft music filled the space and Miles felt his eyes droop with exhaustion. The last time he slept was when he took a nap at Peter’s place, and that only lasted a few hours. He sagged slightly to the side and Noir pulled him closer, so that the boy’s head was resting against his chest.

“Love you,” said Miles sleepily, snuggling into his hold.

Noir lightly tousled Miles’ hair. “Love you too, rookie. Now go to sleep.”

…

 **Gwen:** Are you crazy?!

 **Peni:** How are you still alive?!

 **Miles:** I just challenged Noir to catch me! Not to kill me!

 **Gwen:** If I mouthed off to him like that I’d expect to be killed.

 **Noir:** Doll.

 **Gwen:** Okay, maybe not killed, but extremely grounded.

 **Peni:** Did you think you could win?

 **Miles:** I was optimistic. But then reality came crashing down when he out sped a train. Still don’t know how he did that.

 **Noir:** Years of practice.

 **Peter B:** If you need a rest day that badly, all you have to do is tell us. But it has to be a proper rest day. As in you stay at home in bed and chill rather than bailing to Gwen’s dimension.

 **Miles:** I didn’t want anyone I know to see me.

 **Porker:** How’d your parents take it?

 **Miles:** Not happy. I also have to start telling them these things. Turns out my dad is cool if I need a day to myself if the workload starts to become too much. I really should start opening up to him more.

 **Peter B:** You really should. All he wants is the best for you. We all do.

 **Miles:** I know. I’m just really happy that my exams finally start next week and that’s it. Summer vacation, I await you with open arms.

 **Peni:** I cannot wait.

 **Porker:** How did your Shakespeare essay go, gumball?

 **Peni:** Don’t talk about that man in my presence. It’s forbidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Noir having to chase Miles through New York popped into my head and I had to write it. The mental imagery is hilarious.


	24. Anniversary Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring Peter B/Mary Jane but written with little romance because I'm incapable of capturing such emotions. But hopefully it's still cute!
> 
> And also featuring racism, in the form of racial profiling.

**Miles:** I am beyond sorry but I’m going to be a little bit late getting Mary Jane’s present to you.

 **Peter B:** Don’t even worry about it, bud. I’m the one that sprung this on you at the last possible second.

 **Gwen:** You gotta learn to plan ahead, B.

 **Peter B:** It’s not my fault these ideas come late.

 **Miles:** It will get to you on your anniversary. I promise you that. Just not as early as I was hoping. I’m really sorry.

 **Peter B:** Stop apologizing. It’s fine, Miles. Don’t stress about it.

 **Miles:** It’s your anniversary gift for MJ. I want it to be perfect.

 **Peter B:** It’s coming from you. It’s already perfect.

 **Peni:** Awwww!

 **Gwen:** But you haven’t even seen it yet.

 **Miles:** Thanks, Gwanda.

 **Gwen:** You’re welcome.

 **Noir:** How’s it coming, rookie?

 **Peter B:** Wait I don’t want to know I want it to be a surprise

**_Peter B has logged off_ **

**Porker:** He’s the one that commissioned it from you. What surprise?

 **Miles:** The finished product? I guess he doesn’t want to know how the progress is going.

 **Miles:** It’s definitely coming along. I’ve got a little bit left of MJ to sketch out and the shading needs some polishing.

 **Porker:** You’re taking this really seriously.

 **Miles:** Of course I am. No one has ever actually asked me to make them something before. It’s like, really cool. Kind of professional.

 **Gwen:** You are the least professional person I know.

 **Noir:** Leave him alone, jitterbug.

 **Miles:** Yeah Gwen

 **Gwen:** All right, all right.

 **Miles:** Their anniversary is tomorrow and I better get to work. See you guys later!

**_Miles has logged off_ **

**Porker:** Is it their old anniversary or their new anniversary?

 **Peni:** What?

 **Porker:** Is it the date they first got married or the date they recently got back together?

 **Peni:** Peter already told us. You should have been paying attention.

 **Porker:** Noir Peni is being rude.

 **Noir:** She’s right. Scroll back through the messages if you want to know.

 **Porker:** You people are no help.

…

Miles was extraordinarily grateful he wasn’t a perfectionist when it came to his schoolwork. Nothing would ever get done. When it came to his artwork, well, that was another story. When wielding a spray can his movements had to be slow, careful and precise. He couldn’t wobble and he couldn’t hesitate.

As far as he was concerned, that applied to most art forms, if not all of them. Maybe all artists were perfectionists. He didn’t know too many. All he knew was that he was always irritated and disgruntled by one tiny little smudge or if the shapes were slightly off.

He’d lost track of the amount of times he edited and revised and spruced up Peter’s anniversary portrait. His eyes kept darting between the canvas and his alarm clock, where the red numbers were dangerously creeping up.

“Dang it,” he said frantically, twirling his pencil in his hand.

He took a few deep breaths to settle his nerves. Getting anxious definitely wouldn’t help matters. He gave the portrait an intense, sweeping glance. It was a photorealistic depiction of Mary Jane and Peter on a picnic near a lake. In the water was a reflection of the pair as their teenage selves. Considering he didn’t do portraits often Miles was pretty impressed with himself. He made a few more quick adjustments before finally being satisfied.

“Now it’s perfect,” he declared.

He grabbed a can of fixative spray from its place beneath his desk and sprayed the canvas. It would help to adhere the pencil to the surface so it wouldn’t smudge, and that was the last thing Miles wanted. He would be mortified if he brought it all the way to Peter and Mary Jane only to have it distort during the journey.

Miles carefully fit the canvas inside of a large fabric bag and checked his PMT. The location screen showed Peter at a fancy restaurant in his dimension. Miles slapped the screen and transported just outside the restaurant. The setting sun glinted off the tall, golden-rimmed windows and Miles jogged up the smooth stone steps.

He grabbed the engraved doorknob and pulled the heavy wooden door open. He stepped into the plush-carpeted foyer and glanced around. The walls were covered in paintings that Miles classified as pretentious and there was a large marble fountain that gushed crystal clear water.

While he was gawking a bulky bald man in a tuxedo moved out from behind a mahogany podium and approached him. There was a smile on his face but his green eyes radiated displeasure and suspicion.

“You lost, kid?”

“No,” said Miles in slight confusion. He was pretty sure no one would ever stumble into this place looking for directions. Even he had been slightly intimidated by the expensive decoration and high-class atmosphere. “I’m here for a friend.”

“A friend,” repeated the host, whose silver tag on his lapel announced him as _Tobias_. “I haven’t seen any teens come through here tonight.”

“My friend isn’t a teen,” muttered Miles. He wasn’t liking the way this dude was staring down at him. “His name is Peter Parker. He should be on your reservation list.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. No one by that name has come through, and I’ve been here since the start of the evening.”

That was clearly a lie. Miles could feel his neck give a dim hum. Peter was somewhere in this massive restaurant. But he couldn’t exactly call the guy out on it.

“Couldn’t you just look anyway?” asked Miles, trying to reign in his impatience. “I have something I really need to give him.”

“I see that.” Tobias’ eyes narrowed and he studied the large bag Miles had clutched in his hand. “What’s in there?”

“A portrait,” said Miles. “It’s an anniversary present.”

“Well, why don’t you just leave it with me and I’ll make sure Mr. Parker gets it when he arrives.”

“No!” said Miles quickly, and instantly cursed himself. That was the answer Tobias had been expecting and Miles knew it. “I mean, I really would prefer to give it to him myself and he said he’d be here at this time. I’ll be really fast. I just have to give it to him, I swear.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Tobias flatly. “But we have a very specific kind of reputation here and I can’t have you upsetting it or our esteemed clientele.” He gave a pointed once-over of Miles’ hoodie and worn-out jeans. “I’m going to ask you once to leave. Otherwise I will call security to escort you off the premises.”

Anger and humiliation flushed through Miles and he ducked his head. “Fine,” he shortly. “Whatever. I’m leaving.”

There was no way he could fight this one. Not when the gown-adorned females and cologne-drenched men sneered at him like he was some stray from the street. He started for the door, keenly aware of Tobias’ gaze drilling into his back, and allowed every rude and inappropriate comment to race through his mind.

“Hey, bud! Miles!”

Miles whipped around and felt relief crash through him as Peter jogged into the foyer. “Peter!”

Tobias snapped his gaze between Miles and Peter, genuine shock forming on his features. “Peter Parker?”

“Yeah, dude,” said Miles, this time letting his annoyance show. “I told you I was here to see him.”

It took all of one second for Peter to understand why Miles had been on his way out the door and he rounded on Tobias, his eyes flashing with a cold fury. “You better not tell me you weren’t letting him in.”

“I thought…I didn’t…” Tobias began, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“I told you we were expecting someone else.”

“Yes, but I was under the impression that you were waiting for your son,” said Tobias, pulling on his collar.

One eyebrow shot upwards. “He _is_ my son.”

Tobias floundered, his face turning puce. Peter gave a disgusted scoff and jerked his head, indicating for Miles to follow him. Miles grinned broadly and scampered over, where Peter’s arm immediately fell over his shoulders. He aimed a finger in Tobias’ face and growled, “You better believe I’m filing a complaint.”

“But the dress code,” was all Tobias could stutter as Peter led Miles into the eatery area.

“Your dress code sucks and so do you,” countered Peter.

They entered the grand dining area, where the tables were covered in white tablecloths and the chairs had red silk coverings. Gold and silver candelabras decorated the tables and crystal chandeliers graced the domed ceiling.

“If anything, I think I give this place class,” joked Miles.

Peter sent the boy a smile and ruffled his hair. “Definitely. You okay, man? He didn’t try anything?”

“Other than kicking me out, nah. I’m sure he was trying to prevent me from dealing drugs in this fine establishment.”

“Jerk,” muttered Peter with a scowl. “I was wondering what was taking you so long. I felt your presence but you weren’t showing up.”

“I got delayed by the troll guard.”

“He does look like a troll,” said Peter with a laugh.

Miles surveyed Peter, who was decked out in a suit and tie, and said with a smirk, “And you look completely out of your element.”

“I hate these things,” groused Peter. “They’re too tight and itchy. And this is from a guy who wears spandex a _lot_.”

They reached Peter’s table and Mary Jane stood, her red evening gown glittering under the lighting. She beamed at Miles and embraced him. “Hey, hon.”

“Hey, MJ. Sorry for crashing your dinner,” said Miles sheepishly.

Mary Jane waved away Miles’ concerns. “I’m glad you came. I’m sure you’d make better company than this guy.”

She sent a playful look at Peter and he rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

Miles eased down into a chair and handed Peter the bag. “So I finished MJ’s present. I figured now would be a good a time as any to deliver it.”

The redhead regarded the pair in surprise. “My present?”

“I got this artistic genius to whip something up for you,” said Peter. “I had the idea in my head and he’s the only one I trusted to bring it to life.”

He opened up the bag and removed the canvas. MJ gave a soft gasp, her hand moving to cover her ruby-red lips. The other reached out and gently traced the features of portrait Peter. “This is amazing,” she said in awe. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you’re a talented artist, Miles. I’ve seen the portrait you gave Peter for Father’s Day. But it’s just…”

“Breathtaking,” finished Peter, giving Miles a proud, loving smile. “Every time.”

Pleased with their reactions, Miles grinned. “Thanks! I probably overthought this project, but I wanted it to be perfect. That’s why I’m so late. You were supposed to get it this morning.”

“You could have been years late and I wouldn’t care,” claimed MJ. “I love it. It’s going right in the living room.”

“You nailed it, buddy. Just like I knew you would. You sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”

“Heck no. You get the family discount. As in its free.”

Peter put the portrait back in its bag and Mary Jane slid her plate over to Miles. “You hungry, kiddo?”

“Uh…” Miles furrowed his brow as he studied the seafood dish. “What is it?”

“Orange basil salmon.”

“That sounds pretty gross.”

“It’s definitely not great. But its not bad.”

Miles took a hesitant bite and grimaced when his taste buds rejected the strange flavour. “No thanks. Not really for me.” He hastily swallowed and asked, “Was the experience worth it, though?”

“Definitely not,” the couple chorused.

“We’re splitting the bill,” added Mary Jane. “I really should have known better. We’re not fancy people.”

“Usually I’d argue and pay for everything, but I am a freelancer with a notoriously cheap boss,” said Peter. “I’m going to have to take out a mortgage just to pay for my half.” He pushed the remainder of his prime rib around his plate with a fork. “Seriously, I’ve barbequed ribs myself that tasted better than this.”

“Hey, you gotta get out of your comfort zone once or twice, right?” reasoned Miles. “At least you know now it’s overpriced and underwhelming.”

“Very important life lessons,” said Mary Jane with a serious nod.

“You should have listened to me to begin with,” said Peter in a sing-song voice, only to grunt when she kicked him beneath the table. “Ouch!”

“Let’s pay off our debt and go get some dessert,” she declared, shooting Peter an innocent smile. “What do you say, Miles? How about some ice-cream?”

“I am so in.”

“Are we going to go home and change?” asked Peter with a raised brow.

“It’s New York,” said Miles with a scoff. “Trust me, no one is going to even look at you.”

“It’s the dry-cleaning bill I’m worried about.”

Mary Jane stared down at her dress and shrugged. “I’ll get my ice-cream in a cup instead of a cone.”

“All right then.”

The pair paid their bill and filed out of the restaurant (Miles read the receipt and almost swore, but Peter flicked his ear before he could fully utter it). Tobias gave them a wide-berth as they walked out but no distance was enough to save him from Peter’s scathing glower. Mary Jane was bewildered by this reaction, and quickly grew incensed when Peter relayed to her what had happened.

“That little—why didn’t you tell me sooner? I have some words for him!”

“I would like to not spend our anniversary in jail,” said Peter, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Even if he deserved it.”

“Miles, honey, I’m sorry that happened,” said MJ, wrapping her arm around Miles’ waist. “Don’t pay him any mind.”

“He’s already forgotten,” said Miles easily.

The trio walked down the street, and in a dimension that was not his own, Miles felt completely at home.

…

 **Peni: @PeterB** How was your anniversary dinner?

 **Gwen:** You went to that fancy place, right?

 **Peter B:** Yeah and fancy does not equal quality.

 **Peni:** We could have told you that.

 **Gwen:** I’m pretty sure we did.

 **Peter B:** MJ really wanted to give it a shot. My wallet hates me, but I don’t regret it.

 **Noir:** Of course you don’t. It was a night out with your broad.

 **Miles:** You must really love her if you spent that much on dinner.

 **Gwen:** How much was it?

 **Miles:** Almost seven hundred dollars.

 **Noir:** For two people?!

 **Porker:** The 1% really have money to burn, don’t they?

 **Peter B:** It’s going to take a lot of pictures of Spider-Man to earn that back.

 **Peni:** Did you have a good time?

 **Peter B:** Of course. I’m just happy that I can still celebrate anniversaries with her. I thought I lost that for good.

 **Miles:** You didn’t.

 **Peter B:** It’s thanks to you for giving me the shove I needed.

 **Peter B:** Hey, did you tell them about the troll guard?

 **Gwen:** He definitely didn’t.

 **Peni:** Spill!

 **Miles:** I’m 99% sure the host thought I was some street kid drug dealer coming for a meet up or to cause a scene or something. He wouldn’t let me in and he lied and said Peter wasn’t there when I asked. He tried to kick me out.

 **Noir:** What’s his name and where does he live?

 **Miles:** Don’t worry about it, man.

 **Noir:** I just want to talk.

 **Porker:** You mean traumatize.

 **Peni:** Some people!

 **Gwen:** Should not be let out in public.

 **Miles:** I’m totally fine. Literally forgot about it until Peter brought it up.

 **Porker:** Good. He doesn’t deserve any of your thoughts.

 **Porker:** Now tell me if it was Peter’s old anniversary or his new one.

 **Peter B:** Read through the messages.

 **Porker:** You saw, huh?

 **Peter B:** Yup. I’m offended that my milestones mean nothing to you.

 **Porker:** They don’t mean nothing! I just can’t remember! Give a pig a break!

 **Peter B:** I’m just kidding, Ham. But seriously. I want to see how dedicated you are.

 **Porker:** Do you know how often we talk? Do you know how many messages I’m going to have to scroll through in order to reach that conversation! At least two weeks’ worth of messages! Do you know how much we talk in a week? WHERE IS YOUR MERCY?

 **Peter B:** You know I don’t have any.


	25. Seven Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you to all of you. You've been so nice and supportive and encouraging, and I loved reading your comments. I write for fun, but to know that all of you enjoyed reading means a lot.

**Peter B:** I’ve got the goods for ice-cream sundaes and a couple of action movies. Who wants to come over?

**Miles:** Violent action movies?

**Peter B:** Take a guess.

**Miles:** No?

**Peter B:** Good guess.

**Gwen:** Just think, Miles. I’m going to get to watch R movies before you.

**Miles:** How is that supposed to make me feel better?

**Gwen:** It wasn’t. I just felt like I had to bring it up.

**Miles:** Thanks.

**Noir:** Sounds good to me, fellas.

**Porker:** Do you have air conditioning?

**Peter B:** Are we not worth sweltering for?

**Porker:** No.

**Miles:** Rude.

**Porker:** Do you want to be in a room with a sweating pig?

**Miles:** Good point. Definitely not.

**Peter B:** Yes, I have air conditioning.

**Porker:** I will be there.

**Peni:** Movies and ice-cream, how can I say no?

**Gwen:** What time, B?

**Peter B:** How about after dinner? Around seven?

**Porker:** What, you’re not going to feed us?

**Peter B:** I’m supplying the ice-cream and the air conditioning. Don’t be greedy.

**Gwen:** He’s a pig, he can’t help it.

**Porker:** Oi.

**Noir:** See you in a few hours, fellas.

…

Rio bid her son goodbye on the front steps of their house and watched him walk down the street. When he was out of her range, he ducked into the first alley he came upon. He slapped his PMT and appeared in Peter’s apartment. “Hey,” he greeted, tossing his backpack next to the door.

Peter frowned slightly at Miles’ flustered expression. “You okay?”

“Oh, totally. It’s just that my mom decided to see me off, so I had to pretend I was walking to Ganke’s. It’s a little more stressful Spider-Manning and dimension-hopping when I’m not in school.”

“You have no idea how lucky you are,” claimed Peter. He was piling bowls on the stove, as the counter was reserved for the tubs of ice-cream and bags of candy. “During the school year you’re away from home for most of the week. I did not have that luxury. I was constantly making excuses for leaving early in the morning and coming home late.”

“I don’t know how you did it,” said Miles feelingly. “This summer has been so hard. A guy can only take so many walks.”

“Creativity is what you need,” said Peter, aiming a spoon at him. “Using the same excuse is just going to end up biting you in the butt.”

“I know.” Miles flopped onto Peter’s mattress. “I’m just not creative.”

Gwen and Peni appeared just in time to hear this declaration and Gwen sent him an incredulous look. “You did not just say that.”

“Out,” ordered Peter. “I won’t have such blatant liars in my home.”

“Okay, okay,” said Miles with a laugh. “I am creative. Just when it comes to my art. But with writing and making up stories? Nah. I’m awful.”

“I can’t write a story to save my life,” chimed in Peni. She went over to the counter and reached for the pink bag of gummies but Peter batted at her hand.

“Get lost, Candy Monster. We’re waiting for the others.”

“Fine,” said Peni with a huff. “I was only going to take one.”

“Sure,” said Peter with a snort. “One bag, maybe.”

Ham and Noir appeared just then and Peni beamed. “They’re here! A bowl, if you please.”

Peter rolled his eyes and handed her a green plastic bowl. “Wipe that look off your face.”

“What look?” asked Peni innocently as she shuffled around Peter to scoop some vanilla into her bowl.

Miles and Gwen raced over and joined Peni in crafting their sugary concoctions. Peter’s kitchen could barely fit three at a time, so the man found himself pushed out by the three kids. He raised his arms in the air and said sarcastically, “No, no, please, go ahead. Help yourselves.”

“We are,” said Gwen cheekily.

“Don’t know why you’re annoyed,” said Miles with a smirk. “It’s always the guests who get to go first.”

Ham crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why are we not in there?”

“Because you got here last,” countered Gwen.

“Careful, rockstar. That whipped cream may just end up somewhere other than your ice-cream.”

“No food fights in my apartment!” said Peter quickly, shooting Ham a warning look.

“Pffft. Buzzkill,” muttered Ham.

Noir’s brow shot upwards upon seeing the amount of chocolate and candy Peni was adorning her sundae with. “I think we had a talk about your sugar intake, doll.”

“Free dental care,” stressed Peni. “Cavities are curable. My teeth will always be perfect. Which means I can have as much sugar as I want.”

“Your body is goin’ to pay for it later.”

“We have a cure for diabetes too,” said Peni breezily. When Noir’s stare sharpened, she flinched. “Just for tonight?” she tried. “I won’t eat any candy for the rest of the week. Promise.”

Her large eyes peered pleadingly at him and Noir’s stance eased. “All right. I’m holdin’ ya to that.”

“You got it!” said Peni cheerfully.

Peter and Ham exchanged glances. “He’s soft,” whispered Ham, only to yelp when Noir smacked the back of his head. “Ow!”

“Be careful who ya call soft,” warned Noir. “I’d hate to have to prove ya wrong.”

“Oooh,” crowed Gwen.

“Fight! Fight!” chanted Miles.

“Heck no! I’m not stupid. I ain’t fighting him.”

Miles immediately went sheepish under the pointed look the cartoon pig aimed at him. “I didn’t fight him,” he said with a slight pout. “I challenged him. There’s a difference.”

The teens finished creating their sundaes and went to sit on the mattress. Peter, Noir and Ham joined them a few minutes later with their own desserts and Peter brought up the movie on his television, and soon the opening credits rolled.

For the most part, they weren’t an attentive group when it came to movie night, unless it was a film they really got into. Miles lost interest within the first fifteen minutes and peeked around the room.

The glow of the television screen illuminated the faces of his friends. Peter’s eyes were half-lidded as he stared at the screen. Peni was seated in Noir’s lap, and though that made eating his ice-cream slightly more difficult Noir clearly did not mind. Ham sat on top of Gwen’s head, slurping noisily on his spoon. Miles caught Gwen giving the pig’s side a jab, and while Ham stopped, he dropped his spoon into Gwen’s bowl, causing the girl to recoil in disgust.

Miles hastily turned his head and bit down on his bottom lip to keep his laughter contained.

_Seven months._

The thought erupted into his head, unbidden and sudden and random, as thoughts could sometimes be. The humour faded and Miles stared at his bowl, stirring the melting ice-cream as he contemplated. It was something that had occurred to him that morning when the date popped up on his phone. But he hadn’t much time to think about it, and the surprised realization was squirrelled away to the back of his mind as he hastened to answer his mother’s call to come and eat breakfast.

But here he was, surrounded by five Spider-People he had met almost seven months ago. The time had flown by and had been jam-packed with dimension-hopping, Spider-Manning, close-calls and heart-to-heart talks. He hadn’t known Gwen, Peni, Peter, Ham and Noir for that long. Yet it felt like he’d known them forever. They’d been through so much in such a short amount of time.

Knuckles rapped against the top of his head and Miles jumped, startled out of his pondering. He nearly dropped his bowl but recovered, managing not to stain Peter’s sagging and worn-out mattress. He glanced to his right, where Peter sat next to him.

Studying the boy with concern, Peter asked, “You okay, bud?”

These words were more than enough to distract the others from the movie and Miles found all the attention directed at him. “Yeah, totally!” he assured. “I’m good.”

“What were you thinking about?” asked Peter in bemusement.

“Oh, nothing.”

“You don’t think that hard about nothing.”

“What’s up, Miles?” asked Gwen curiously.

“Spill the beans!” ordered Ham, smoothly hopping from Gwen’s head to his. He stretched his neck so he was practically nose to nose with Miles. “What’s the scoop?”

“Get outta my face,” said Miles with a laugh, shoving at Ham’s snout. “Do you know what today is?”

“Um…” Peni’s face scrunched up as she thought. “Well, it’s not your birthday until next month.”

“It’s not the anniversary of you becoming Spider-Man,” mused Gwen.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and his brow creased in puzzlement. “If I happen to not know does that make me a terrible person?”

“Yes,” said Miles dramatically. “It should have been the best day of your life.”

“The best day of my life? Now I’m completely lost.”

“I think ya mean the best day of _our_ lives,” said Noir, clicking in to what Miles was trying to get across.

Miles pointed at him with a grin. “He gets it.”

“What is he talking about?” asked Ham.

“It’s the day we all met. The first time we were together.” Noir paused and did a quick mental calculation. “Seven months ago, to be exact.”

“Ah.” Realization dawned on Peter. “Right.”

“I can’t believe the date means nothing to you,” said Miles with an exaggerated sniff.

“How the tables turn,” said Ham with a smirk.

Peter’s eyes narrowed and he went to swat at the cartoon pig, but Ham dodged and neatly dropped into Miles’ lap. “In my defense, I didn’t actually look at the calendar this morning.”

“Geez. Seven months,” said Gwen, shifting to rest her chin against the palm of her hand. “It feels like I’ve known you guys my whole life.”

“That’s basically what I was thinking,” spoke Miles. “It’s been a wild seven months and the best time I’ve ever had. It’s suddenly really hard to imagine how I lived my life without you in it. Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” said Peter strongly, pulling Miles into his arms. “I feel the same way, buddy.”

“Me too,” said Gwen with a soft smile.

“I’ve been alone for a long time,” said Noir quietly, his fingers moving through Peni’s hair in a gentle, tender rhythm. “I planned to stay that way. But then you came into my life and now I don’t want to be alone again.”

“You won’t,” said Peni firmly, turning to snuggle against his chest. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ham. “You can’t get rid of us now.”

Noir chuckled. “Good.”

Gwen moved to rest against Noir’s side and he immediately wrapped an arm around her, tucking her closer. Miles relaxed against Peter and closed his eyes briefly against the warmth that encompassed him. “You’re the reason I could become Spider-Man. You pushed me beyond my limits and helped me realize what I was capable of. That all I had to do was believe.”

“We’re not the reason,” said Peter firmly. “With or without us, you would have taken that leap of faith eventually. It’s in your heart, Miles. We might have just sped up the process.”

“You were a massive help,” insisted Miles. “You still are a massive help. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His voice caught and tears suddenly blurred his eyes. How he felt about them, how much they meant to him and all that they did for him, all the intense emotions he couldn’t ever properly express into words clogged his throat.

But they knew. Because they all shared the same feeling. Peter’s arms tightened around him and Ham dropped into his lap. The movie and ice-cream were forgotten as they huddled together, Peter shifting closer to Noir and Gwen crawling over to snuggle in between Peni and Miles. The boy caught the wet shine of Gwen’s eyes and he gave a shaky laugh.

“Sorry. This was supposed to be a fun night and I turned it into an emotional disaster.”

“It’s not an emotional disaster,” murmured Peter, wrapping an arm over Noir’s shoulders as the monochromatic man set his hand against Gwen’s back. “I get what you mean. For thirty-eight years and five months, I’ve lived without you. After seven months I’m paralyzed by the notion that I might have to do so again.”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Noir grimly.

“Yeah,” agreed Ham, lightly patting the tears off Miles’ cheeks. “In the grand scheme of things, we just found each other. I can’t lose you before I’ve driven you crazy.”

“No chance of that happening,” said Miles genuinely.

“I’m really glad I met all of you,” said Peni, beaming at them.

“Being violently ripped from my dimension was the best thing to happen to me,” said Gwen with a grin.

They went comfortably silent, basking in the closeness and love they shared with one another. The movie was background noise as they cuddled together, and Miles felt his eyelids begin to sag with fatigue. “You realize we’re spending the night, right?” he asked with a yawn.

Peter ruffled his hair and cast a fond, tender glance at the other drowsy Spiders. “It’s what I was hoping for, bud.”

“Someone should clean up the ice-cream,” mumbled Peni, nuzzling her chin against Gwen’s shoulder.

“I’m not leaving the cuddle pile,” muttered Ham. “Gwen, go do it.”

Gwen gave a grunt and started to rise. Peter grasped her elbow and gently but firmly tugged her back down. She didn’t protest and immediately resumed her snuggling position. “We’ll take care of it tomorrow,” said Peter.

“I can’t believe you were actually going to do it,” snickered Ham.

Gwen jabbed at his side. “Shut up. I can be nice.”

Ham clasped her hand and held it. “Didn’t say you weren’t.”

Miles smiled and closed his eyes, sinking back against Peter’s chest. He drifted off with love humming in his heart. As difficult as being Spider-Man could be, as difficult as being a teenager with super powers could be, he knew he would be fine. No matter the hardships, he would have them.

He could face the uncertainty of his future with his Spider-Family by his side.

…

**Miles:** I love you guys.

**Peter B:** I love you too, buddy.

**Noir:** Love you, rookie.

**Porker:** I love you, Picasso.

**Gwen:** Love you more Hey Guy.

**Peni:** I love you too, Miles!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the end of this particular story, but I'm sure you'll see more from me someday. My love for the Spider-Fam is deep, after all.
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
